


A Tale of Two Alphas

by claitynroberts



Series: A Tale of Two Alphas [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: 18+, ABO, Angst, F/M, Language, Mentions of incest, Multi, NSFW, Smut, Torture, a/b/o au, a/b/o dynamics, canon violence, non-con kissing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-05-29 02:28:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 26,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15063029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/claitynroberts/pseuds/claitynroberts
Summary: After running from her family, Y/N, a female Alpha, turns to a life of hunting. Answering Bobby’s call to assist Garth and two other hunters on a vamp mission in Branson, MO, she meets Sam and Dean Winchester. Determined, independent, and sassy as hell, Dean can’t control himself around her; causing him to become a not-so-smooth wannabe ladies’ man. When her family comes after her determined to make her take her place in the familial heirerarchy, will Y/n allow Dean to help out? Or will she give into her family’s wishes?





	1. Introductions & Failed Pickup Lines

**Author's Note:**

> This is an A/B/O series I’m currently working on, and I really love the way it’s turning out so far. The Reader is an amazingly strong and independent character and I really hope I’m doing her justice in the portrayal of her. 
> 
> The A/B/O verse this story takes place in follows many of the same rules as any other A/B/O verse. All the typical genders and rules/dynamics are there, with only a few minor tweaks. Female Alphas are not hermaphroditic, they only have lady parts, and they experience heats like any other woman. Also true pairings can set of both parties’ biological need cycle as well as establishing a psychic/mental link between the two.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Y/n agrees to help Garth, Sam, and Dean on a vamp hunt in Branson, MO. She’s met Garth, the awkward Beta, before, but Sam and Dean are a whole new ballgame. Sam seems nice enough, but Dean? The moment he opens his mouth nothing but stupidity spills from it, ruining her impression of the attractive hunter.

She always woke up from her nightmares screaming and soaked in sweat. Vivid images of family members, pack members, lying lifeless around her plagued her every thought. No matter what she tried to do, it always ended the same way; with her standing over her brother’s lifeless body, blood soaking into the parched ground, and his still beating heart hanging from her hand.

Thunder cracked and a burst of lightning lit up the motel room as she stumbled from the bed and into the bathroom. Flicking on the light, she stared into her reflection in the mirror. The circles under her eyes had grown darker, and her hair hung limp around her face. Sweat trickled down the lines of her cheek to pool in the hollows of her neck and collarbones. Gripping the dingy sink basin she wrenched on the cold water as tears slid down her face. Sobs wracked her body as she thought about the family she left behind, hoping her new nomadic lifestyle would help keep them all safe. She was going to be the undoing of all of them. She was the one she had to save them from.

After a few long moments she splashed the tepid tap water on her face to cool it from the aftershocks of the night terrors. As she slowly patted her face dry, her phone rang from the other room. Quietly she padded over to the nightstand where it was charging, checking the screen before hitting the accept button. Thank God the name didn’t match up to any of her family members, but that of an old grisly hunter friend. Bobby Singer.

Sliding the accept button, she answered. “Hey Bobby, what’s up?”

Hearing the strain in her voice, broke his heart. “You okay kid?” He replied, concern edging the gruff voice.

“Yeah.” She sighed. “I’m okay. Just a bad dream is all. What do you got?”

“Well, I got a lead on a damn awful vamp nest near Branson, Missouri. Several tourists have gone missing over the last few weeks.”

“How many is ‘several’?”

“About thirty.” He cleared his throat. “Thought I’d see if you wanted in on the action? I can’t do jackshit in this chair and I have a few more hunters headed that way too. Should be there tomorrow afternoon.”

“Bobby, y’know how I feel about hunting with others.”

“Yeah, I know (y/n), but this is going to be more than one or two hunters can handle.” He waited for you to reply, after a moment he kept on. “Look. I know you’re scared. I know you’re trying to keep on the move and stay busy. I get that. We all go through that phase—it’s a side effect of the hunter lifestyle. Trust me. If you want the job, meet the guys at Shady Acres motel. It’s a mile or two north of town on Lake Taneycomo.”

“Who are the reinforcements?” She asked curiously.

“Garth Fitzgerald and the Winchesters.”

She mulled the names over in the back of her mind. She knew Garth from a hunting trip a few months previous, but the Winchesters? The name was familiar, but she couldn’t place it with a face. “Thanks, Bobby. Tell the others I’ll meet them there.”

“Alright, will do, kiddo.” He paused. “Take care of yourself, okay? And I don’t just mean the hunts.”

“Yeah Bobby, I know.” A small smile broke over her face as she disconnected. At least she had someone who gave a shit about her.

The next afternoon (y/n) was cruising up the curvy wooded road toward the rendezvous point. The soft thrum of her motorcycle’s engine sending soothing vibrations through her body. Her (y/hc) fluttering in the wind behind her as the sunlight glinted off the onyx black paint and bright chrome of the bike. Hunters didn’t often travel by motorcycle because of the lack of storage space, though everything she needed she could carry in the saddlebags on each side or the duffle she had strapped down behind her. 

She knew she should upgrade, but Duke was all she had left of her grandfather. The one person in the world who never asked her to be anything but what she was. Riding the bike down the road always brought to mind the lazy days spent watching John Wayne movies with him, or helping him tune up or rebuild parts in the garage.

Pulling up to the motel she immediately recognized Garth leaning against the side of his vehicle. To anyone else his tall gangly frame would have looked awkwardly arranged in such a casual pose, but she had known him long enough to understand that’s just how Garth was. Awkward. In a young puppy like way.

“Hey (y/n)! Glad you could make it,” he said exuberantly as he wrapped her in a hug before she was even able to get off the bike.

“Hey Garth,” she said with a chuckle. “How long’s it been?”

“Since that Wendigo case in Montana,” he replied. “How have you been?”

She had broken down and spilled her guts to Garth one night during the hunt, and other than  
Bobby, he was the only one who knew why she was on the move. Sighing(,) she gave a half-smile. “I’m good. Could be better, but I’m not worse. That’s a start.”

“I’m glad you’re doing okay,” he said.

“Thanks.” She slung her leg over the bike so she was sitting side saddle, and crossed her legs at the knee. “So Garth, how’s things been with you?” She asked wagging her eyebrows up and down over the top of her dark, large framed sunglasses, a smirk playing on her lips.

“I’ve been good, but if you’re wanting information regarding my personal life with my girlfriend, you my friend are getting nada.” He chuckled, crossing his arms.

“Come on, Garth! I thought we were—“ She was suddenly cut off by the loud rumble of an engine. Turning her head to the side, she saw a black Impala pulling up in the space beside her bike. Two large men crawled out of the front seat, both layered in Henley’s and differing colors of plaid. What was it with hunters and plaid? 

One was larger, with a ganglier frame and brown hair that just brushed the collar of his shirt. His face was kind, and his hazel eyes crinkled with mirth when he smiled. The other was slightly shorter, but his frame was large. Wide shoulders and bow legs filled out his clothes nicely, and his sandy blond hair was arranged in an artfully messy style. Deep emerald green eyes cut from his taller companion to scan the surroundings. When they landed on Garth and (y/n), the two men immediately made a beeline over to them.

(Y/n) remained perched on the bike as the three men exchanged pleasantries, taking the moment alone to scent the newcomers. She new Garth was Beta, but what she found out about the new recruits was surprising. The larger of the two was Beta, confounding for his size but not at all unexpected when she observed his body language and interactions with the other two hunters. The smaller man radiated pure Alpha. His bodily movements emanated a high level of self-confidence if not pure cockiness. Grinning and slapping Garth on the back while gesturing to the tall stranger.

Garth’s eyes alighted on (y/n) when he interrupted the felicitations to make introductions. Looking at the two men he began, motioning toward the young lady seated on the bike. “Sam, Dean, this is (y/fn y/ln). (Y/n), this is Sam and Dean Winchester,” he finished with a smile. 

“Nice to meet you, (y/n),” the tall one, Sam, said as he gave a small wave. “Garth has told us so much about you.” He grinned.

Dean’s eyes raked over her body as she sat astride the bike, his eyebrows quirking and a smirk playing along his lips. “Although, he didn’t tell us how smoking you were.” He cleared his throat, his gaze lingering longer than it should. He didn’t know why, but he was drawn to her like a moth to a flame. A strange, unsettling feeling lodged itself in his chest as his mouth blurted the most idiotic line his bran had ever thought up. “If being a crossroads demon is the way to score a kiss from you, then so be it.” Damn, he cringed internally, what woman in their right mind would ever fall for that one? He grimaced visibly as he glanced toward his brother’s admonishment.

“Dean!” Sam hissed as Garth tried to hide a grin with his hand. 

“Thanks, Sam. Nice to meet you, too.” She replied as she slid her large sunglasses down her nose, peering at Dean over the top of them. Slowly she let her eyes roam over his form, starting at his boots and working her way up, allowing her gaze to linger in a few select spots. When she reached his face, she made eye contact as she pursed her lips and raised a singular eyebrow, hoping she looked as if she found something in him lacking. Sliding her glasses back up the bridge of her nose. “You,” she replied to Dean with a pointed look and a scowl, “we’ll see about.” 

With a clap of her hands she slid off the bike and looked between the three men. “So, shall we come up with a game plan and gank these bitches?”


	2. Badass Barbie & Zoolander

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Y/n, Dean, Garth, and Sam gear up and move to take out the vamp nest located in Branson, MO. During the firefight both y/n and Dean discover some foreign feelings for the other after one is injured and the other almost dies. One of the vamps lets the two of them in on a little secret neither knew or wanted to accept.

After a few hours of arguing and bickering and reviewing all the collective case information, the four hunters finally came to an agreement. The vamp nest was located in a derelict house on the outskirts of the city. With the numerous amount of vics that had gone missing over the last few weeks, discovering a pattern was difficult. Without a specific victim demographic to go by, because both young and old, male and female, had gone missing, discovering where to begin the stakeout was damn near impossible.

Currently, the four hunters were gathered in a circle behind their vehicles. Each hunter was gearing up, pocketing extra stakes and syringes of dead man’s blood while strapping on machetes. (Y/n) removed her leather jacket and rummaged around in her duffel looking for something, completely unaware Dean was watching her as she did. After a moment she pulled out a black vest and slipped it on over her Bon Jovi t-shirt. With a flick of her wrist she zipped its short zipper and began sliding her own stakes and syringes into the loops and pockets covering the front. By the time she was done, six stakes wrapped around her rib cage, three on each side of the middle zipper of the vest. Above them six syringes of dead man’s blood rested in a similar fashion, causing Dean’s eyebrows to quirk up. 

He’d been trying to get a read on her standing since he met her this afternoon, but something was blocking her scent. Dean thought she was probably an Omega, but something about the way she carried herself and travelled alone made him dismiss the thought quickly. If Alpha females weren’t so rare, that’s what he’d peg her as; no, she was more likely a Beta.

Still going about the process of gearing up, (y/n) pulled a total of four machetes out of one of the motorcycle’s saddlebags. With the help of a couple sheaths, she strapped two to her legs, one on the outside of each thigh; two more rested across her back, with the handle of each in easy reach behind her head. Cracking her knuckles she slipped on a pair of black fingerless gloves, slipped her leather jacket into the duffel, and picked up the forty-five caliber pistol, tucking it into the waistband of her jeans at the small of her back. Better to have it and not need it, she thought. 

As she turned around she noticed Dean was staring at her, an unreadable look on his face. The other two men finished gearing up and turned toward the group. Clearing his throat Dean spoke up, attempting to redeem himself from earlier in the afternoon. “Okay, we pair off. Two go around back and two come in the front. Guns blazing from two directions...figuratively, of course. Hopefully we’ll catch ‘em unaware and get this over with. Wham, bam, thank ya ma’am.” 

Squinting her eyes and pursing her lips (y/n) looked him over. “Sounds doable,” she said. “How we gonna team up?” 

“Me and Garth will go in the front. You and Dean, go in the back,” Sam offered.

She glanced up at Dean, a strange feeling beginning to bloom in her chest. He looked incredulous, as if Sam had asked him for a kidney...or maybe a testicle. (Y/n) scowled and pushed that strange feeling far from her mind. 

“Wh-what if I wanted Garth?” Dean stammered.

“Is it really that big of a deal?” Sam asked, confused at his brother’s reaction.

“I don’t want to be stuck with Zoolander over here,” (y/n) Said derisively, crossing her arms and popping a hip. Fuck it, if he didn’t want to team up with her, she didn’t want to be paired up with him either.

“Oh, so you think I’m really, really ridiculously good looking?” Dean quipped with a smirk. He was playing it cool, but her hostility was beginning to grate at his nerves. Though his body and his brain obviously weren’t on the same page, he noted, as his jeans became a little tighter and a foreign feeling stirred in his belly. 

Rolling her eyes, (y/n) retorted. “No. I’m calling you dumb, Shit-for-brains.” She crossed her arms and rounded on him, bowing up on the man a foot taller than her.

Dean looked aghast, and (y/n) had to smother a self-satisfied smirk. “Would you idjits quit bickering.” Garth broke in. “Look we have a job to do, y’all can fight later. Y’know after we gank these beasties.” He broke away from the group to find a twig, which he broke into three pieces differing in length. “We’ll draw straws, or I guess in this case twigs, for partners. Shortest straw will go with me in the front of the house, the other two...you’re on your own with the back.” He shrugged.

Sam, Dean, and (y/n) each grabbed a piece of the broken stick, revealing them a few seconds later. As eyes scanned the piece of wood each hunter held, it turned out Sam had drawn the short stick. He grinned, waving it around. “Oh c’mon!” Dean exclaimed. “I’m stuck w-with…Badass Barbie over here?” He stammered.

“Them’s the breaks, Deano,” replied Garth as he and Sam turned to leave. “Oh,” he said, turning back around. “I uh—I wouldn’t piss her off too bad,” he finished with a wry smile at (y/n) and Dean.

“Be ready to storm the nest in five minutes,” Sam said as they walked away.

Snorting and rolling her eyes (y/n) turned on her heel and began tromping toward the woods. “Wh-what are you doing?” Dean hollered after her.

“Heading toward the back of the house, Winchester.” She rolled her eyes as she walked on.

“But wouldn’t it be easier to—“

“Do not finish that sentence. We skirt the edge of the forest around to the back of the house. The foliage gives us extra cover from the vamps’ eyes.” She said as she marched forward pushing low-hanging limbs out of her path. She stopped just before another much larger and bushier limb, a wicked glint in her eye. Spinning around she looked at Dean, storm clouds in her eyes and a steely exterior. He looked taken aback, though whether it was by her previous words or the sudden about-face, she wasn’t sure.

“Listen here, Winchester,” She began. “This is a pretty cut and dry case. If you can’t be more intelligent than this you’re going to need to go sit in that precious Impala of your’s. I’ll be damned if you pull a wrong move and get me killed tonight,” she seethed. Too many emotions for him to name swirling in her eyes as they stared at each other.

Dean’s mouth gaped like a fish out of water. Leveling a finger at him she continued, punctuating each sentence with a sharp jab to his pec muscle. “When we’re finished here, I’m going to eat some dinner, get shit-faced drunk, and pass out in a plush bed at the ritziest hotel in this hellhole of a tourist destination. Capice?” She cocked her head to the side and studied him for a moment, waiting for a reply. With a chuckle she lightly smacked his cheek and turned around, pushing through the limb and letting it fly back in Dean’s flabbergasted face. When the foliage made contact, she giggled to herself.

Dean was left pulling leaves from his mouth and rubbing a hand over his very sore pectoral. A snarl ripped out of his chest as he followed her through the woods. Damn, the more time he spent with her the more he wanted to put a fist through (y/n)’s teeth, and the more a certain body part wanted to insert itself in a completely different hole. God, he had to get himself under control.

A couple minutes later (y/n) and Dean were crouched in the flora on the edge of the woods about thirty yards from the back of the house. “T-minus thirty seconds,” (y/n) said as she glanced at her watch.

“Listen, we need to talk,” Dean replied.

“Unless we can have the conversation in, oh, about twenty seconds, ain’t happening, Winchester.”

“I just wanna make sure—“

“As long as we are all making smart decisions we will all walk out of here alive. Simple as that.”

He looked at her incredulously. Sammy’s safety was always foremost in his mind, and how she picked up on that he didn’t know. 

“It’s go time,” she said as she watched the hands tick down the last few seconds. Rising from her position she walked toward the house, a woman on a mission. Dean trotting along behind her trying to catch up.

As they approached the back door, Dean moved forward giving it a solid kick right above the lock. Breaking it inward and allowing them entry. (Y/n) unsheathed the two machetes at her back and slipped in first; blades raised and at the ready, taking in the scene around her. The kitchen was clear, as was the dining room to the side. A crash came from the front of the house as Sam and Garth forced their way in as well. A moment later a larger commotion broke out. Exchanging looks, Dean and (y/n) rushed through the house and into the living room where the other two hunters were squaring off with eight vamps.

The dingy floors and peeling wallpaper lent itself to the sinister atmosphere of the dilapidated house. “You take Asshat and Buttface,” (y/n) motioned to two vamps on the left. One was a college frat type and the other was just...ugly. “I’ll take Swazye and Pimple-face,” She motioned to the two on the right. Making eye contact with Dean, the two nodded at each other and jumped into action.

With a guttural snarl, (y/n) leaped forward swinging the machetes in an arc toward Swayze. Before he knew what was coming, his head was rolling on the floor and his body slumped into a heap. Flinging the hair out of her eyes she smiled down at the corpse. “Nobody puts Baby in a corner,” she grinned to herself at the joke. A second later Pimple-face came flying at her, fangs bared, knocking her to the ground. Her blades flying away. The vamp was on top of her in a flash, a hand at her throat squeezing hard. 

“That was my boyfriend, bitch,” Pimple-face growled at her, threading her free hand in (y/n)’s hair and yanking her head back, forcing her to look at her. “I’m going to take pleasure in gutting and feeding on you.” She snarled with a face splitting grin. (Y/n)’s hand slipped between the two of them, reaching for her vest of munitions. Grabbing a stake from its spot on the vest, she shoved it cleanly up between the vamp’s ribs and into its heart, effectively incapacitating it. Kicking it off her, she stood to her feet and drew another blade.

“Guess I beat you to it,” she panted. Looking around (y/n) noticed there were a total of four vamps dead, her two, one of Dean’s, and one of Sam’s. 

Sheathing her blade and picking up the two that were knocked away during her fight, she ran over to help Garth. He had already depressed a syringe of dead man’s blood into the vamp’s neck, and (y/n) took that as an opening to swing her machete through the air, slicing through flesh and gristle, separating its head from it’s body. “Garth, you alright?” She asked, panting as the body hit the floor with a dull thud.

“Yeah, I’m good. Nice slice,” he replied near breathlessly.

Together they spun on the remaining three vamps. Dean and Sam were each grappling with one, the third looked between Garth and (y/n). Realizing she was outnumbered she bolted out the door. “I’ll go after her, you stay and help the boys,” Garth called as he took off into the night, quicker than she thought he was capable of.

As she turned from the door, Sam was thrown across the room into a half-rotted wall, causing it to crumble down around him as he lost consciousness. As she swung the machete at the vamp, aim perfect for decapitation, it threw up a hand to parry the attack. The metal of the blade made a clanging noise as it landed on the time-worn hardwood floor across the room. She slid another stake from the vest spinning it lengthwise in her hand as she circled the vamp. 

“You hunters and your need to save everyone,” he laughed darkly. “You’ve no idea what you all walked into.” Grinning he started moving in tandem with (y/n), both waiting for the other to make a move. “I’ll make it easy on you,” he said. “I’ll kill you first, then I’ll take out your boyfriend and gigantor over there. When the little squirrelly one comes back from chasing down Beatrice, I’ll end him too. All your deaths will be painless, of course.” A Cheshire Cat grin splitting his face.

(Y/n) chuckled. “I don’t think you know how this truly ends.” Slicing with the machete she drew the vamp’s block, leaving an opening to thrust up with the stake, catching him off guard. Kicking his knees out from under him she leaned down, covered in the blood of his fellow comrades, and snarled in his ear. “You’ll never win.” Grabbing him by the hair, she forced his face up to look at her. “You’re kind will never win.” She snarled, giving his head and extra jerk backwards. “That you can count on.” Gritting her teeth and raising her blade she made a clean cut through his neck. His body fell limp and his head dangled from her hand, her fingers still buried in his hair. Her chest rising and falling with the nights exertion. 

Dean couldn’t help but watch her take out the vamp that threw Sam across the room. As infuriating as she was, he couldn’t help but be impressed by her. She was tough, fierce, and didn’t take shit from anyone, including him. Too focused on trying to discern what the feeling in his stomach and chest was, he didn’t catch the vamp coming at him until he was on the ground, pinned beneath the creature. As he struggled, the vamp brought it’s fangs dangerously close to his neck to rip out his throat. “Killing Dean Winchester. This is the greatest night of my life,” she hissed out with a chuckle. “Well,” she cocked her head to the side studying him for a moment, “at least top five.” A breathy laugh erupted from her chest as she moved back towards his carotid artery.

Attention drawn by the commotion on the other side of the room, (y/n)’s eyes fell on Dean pinned beneath the bloodsucker. A growl ripped from low in her throat as she delivered a swift hard kick to the vamp’s ribs, knocking her off Dean and down to the floor beside him. With a terrifying roar she dropped a knee to the vamp’s chest, raising the machete high above her head and swinging it down with all the force she could muster. The white-hot rage coursing through her imbedded the blade into the floor as the vamp kneed her in the ribs, knocking (y/n) off balance and into the corner. 

Rolling to her knees, the vamp looked between Dean, sprawled on the floor cradling his left hand, and (y/n) desperately trying to wrench the machete from its place in the floor. A sneer appeared on the bloodsucker’s face as she spoke to (y/n). “I’ll kill you first, sweetie, so your mate can watch,” she turned toward Dean next, “then I’ll come for you.”

Forgetting the blade in the floor, (y/n) stood, reaching for one of the other weapons strapped to her body. Lighting fast, the vamp was on her; a hand around her throat pinned (y/n) to the wall as she slid her body up off the ground. (Y/n) scrambled, attempting to get purchase on something in order to take the crushing force off her windpipe. Desperately she clawed at the vamp’s hand, wheezing out words as she tried to come up with a game plan. “Go ahead. Kill me.” She choked out. “He won’t care,” her eyes darted to where Dean was struggling to get up. “I don’t know the guy.” Labored breath. “And he’s certainly not my mate.” She ground out.

“You humans are so blind,” she giggled. “I can smell the connection between you two.” The vamp lunged for (y/n)’s neck as a glint of silver metal flashed through the air. Her grip loosened immediately, and (y/n) slid down the wall quickly, her knees smacking the floor as her legs buckled under her weight.

Dean had risen unsteadily to his feet, pulling (y/n)’s machete from the floorboards. Seeing her at the mercy of the bloodsucker fueled a fire he didn’t know was burning deep within him. Once the creature had been executed, he slid down the wall beside her to gather himself. What was that, he thought. The only other people he was this protective over were Sam and Cas, and he borderline hated this girl...didn’t he? She was rude and crass and annoyingly bossy, why would he ever care about her that deeply? Sighing, he thunked his head back against the wall and closed his eyes, taking in deep breaths of musty air to center himself.

(Y/n) knelt there for a moment, breasts heaving and covered in vamp blood, while her emotions began to wind down. As she tried to sort through where the rage came from when she saw Dean pinned to the ground, life hanging in the balance, she looked over to see him sitting against the wall beside her, eyes closed. Could the vamp be right, she thought as she took in his profile. As far as mates go it could be much worse, at least he’s somewhat attractive. He was awfully banged up. A few scratches and some lacerations around his neck and face, an injured wrist, it appeared, but altogether whole and very handsome.

Cracking an eye he caught her staring at him in his peripheral vision as a grin split his face. “Like what you see, sweetheart?” He didn’t miss the softness that had come over her features as she perused his injuries.

Rolling her eyes, she climbed to her feet and allowed her stoic mask to slam back into place. “C’mon, Winchester. Let’s grab Sam, case the rest of the place, and go find Garth,” she said as she reached out a hand to help him to his feet.

“Y-yeah,” he cleared his throat, handing her blade back. “Yeah, I’ll get Sammy up, you check out the rest of the house. The three of us will clear the basement before we try to find Garth and the other bloodsucker.” His demeanor was back to normal, cocky and in-charge, even though he had one hand.

Snorting, (y/n) nodded her head and quietly cased the rest of the building. A few moments later, she came back into the living room, noting that Sam was up off the ground. Wobbly but at least he was awake. “The ground floor is clear, Winchester,” she said addressing the eldest.

“Right, good.” He replied. Together the three of them moved toward the basement door, Sam opening it as Dean led them down the steps, followed by (y/n). The stench of death hit them before they were able to make it to the last step. Fanning out, the hunters walked around the dim, dank basement checking for signs of life.

“All gone,” (y/n) called from her side of the room, a tinge of sadness in her voice.

“Same,” Sam said as he met her at the foot of the stairs.

“Yeah, so were mine,” Dean replied.

Pushing her emotions aside, (y/n) spoke up. “There’s too many to bury,” she said as she looked around the basement turned tomb. “We’ve gotta salt and burn them.” She looked between the brothers.

Breathing in deeply, Sam looked at Dean. “She’s right.” Dean merely nodded at him. 

A few moments later the three were back in the basement, spreading salt around the room and across the bodies as they soaked everything in lighter fluid. They climbed up onto the staircase and took a last look at the carnage as Dean tossed the lighter into the pile of corpses. Once the fluid caught, the three hunters hurried out of the house, knowing it wouldn’t take long for the dried out wood to catch fire as well.


	3. If Hotel Rooms Were Like Pie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the hunters take out the vamp nest, albeit while letting one escape, they hole up in a ritzy hotel on Table Rock Lake. Y/n and Dean attempt to cope with their feelings for one another for the evening, but an innocent chat in the hotel bar quickly turns into a verbal spar.

As the hunters staggered out of the house, Garth emerged from the forest surrounding the home, banged up but in one piece. Jogging over to the scrawny hunter, (y/n) gave him a once over. “You okay, Garth?” Even though she’s only hunted with him a couple times, a major soft spot was forming for this eccentric man.

“Yeah, I’m good,” he winced as he rubbed the back of his head. “I caught up to her, and we fought for a minute but she ended up colcocking me over the head and taking off. I woke up a few minutes later to the smell of smoke.”

“Well, at least she didn’t turn you into a juice box,” Dean said hoping for a laugh. Instead, Sam smacked his arm and (y/n) gave him a withering look; Garth looked like he wanted to laugh but the pity he felt for Dean kept him from it.

“Okay,” (y/n) spoke up. “Here’s what we are going to do. We’re going to go into town, and get a room. We need to blend in with the crowd, especially with a vamp on the loose. No telling what she’s cooking up.”

“There’s a by-the-hour motel jus—,” Dean began.

“No.” She glared at him. “We are not going to stay at some seedy motel. We are going to find a nice respectable place with decent beds and room service and lay low. Tomorrow we blow town and go our separate ways.”

After a short drive, the group of hunters pulled up under the bright green awning of the Palisades Hotel. It was an enormous twelve story building overlooking Table Rock Lake on the other side of town. Private gardens dotted the area surrounding the property, fountains placed here and there along with trellises of purple and yellow flowers brought the design concept together.

“Uh—,” a throat cleared, “um (y/n). I don’t disagree with your thought process, but isn’t this a little—I dunno, conspicuous?” Sam questioned.

“Eighty-nine percent of the hotels in the town are three plus stars. It’s a tourist destination, for God’s sake, there ain’t nothing inconspicuous about this town.” She said. 

“Well how are we going to aff—,” Dean began. 

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll take care of it.” She cut him off as she swung herself down off the bike and strutted in the front doors of the lobby. Several minutes ticked by, leaving the boys nervously toeing the ground around their vehicles as their hackles began to rise, worried about the young woman inside.

A few heartbeats more passed, as she walked out the door, keycards in hand. After parking and grabbing gear and luggage, the hunters were on the elevator ascending the building to the twelfth and topmost floor. “We’ve each got our own key,” she said as she handed the three men an electronic door card.

Frowning, Dean looked at his. “Uh, (y/n), I think we’ve got the wrong cards.”

“No, we don’t.” She snorted. “They’re perfectly fine.”

With that the elevator dinged, signaling their arrival to the floor their rooms were located on. Turning left, (y/n) led the group down the hall. In this part of the corridor, the doors were few and far between. As she stopped in front of a set of white double doors, Garth read the placard out loud. “Presidential Suite,” it read.

Sliding the card and pushing the door open, Dean let out a low whistle. A large living area opened on a contemporary kitchen complete with stainless steel appliances and an island. The large windows at the back open onto a beautiful shaded veranda overlooking the water and forest surrounding the property. Hallways branched off each side of the living area, leading to what he believed were the bedrooms.

“I’ve got the master suite,” (y/n) began as she waltzed toward the larger bedroom. “Boys,” she said nonchalantly motioning to the opposite corridor with her chin, “y’all can fight over the other rooms.” Smirking she disappeared behind the door of the master bedroom, locks clicking into place.

The three men looked between them, and immediately took off for the plush bedrooms. Scrabbling over each other, pushing, biting, and pulling each other’s hair as if fighting over the last piece of cherry pie during a zombie apocalypse. Somewhere in the huddle, Sam’s giant foot ended up hooked around Dean’s ankle, tripping him so he fell face-first into the shag rug. Garth, while scrawny was wily, and landed more than a few elbows to both Sam and Dean’s ribs as they all hustled toward the doors. 

By the time Dean was able to climb to his feet, Sam and Garth had each already settled down on the two queen beds in the two spare bedrooms, Leaving him the dog out in the cold. Grunting, he squared his shoulders and stood in Sam’s doorway. “Heya, Sammy,” he began, scratching the side of his nose idly. “Can I, uh, bunk with you? Y’know, like old times?” He grinned hoping the nostalgia will make him gave.

“Hahaha, right.” Sam said with a laugh as he laid on the feathery mattress. “Dean, you’re my brother and I love you, but...no. You cannot bunk with me.”

“Oh c’mon, Sammy. It’ll be fun.” Dean could feel his hope slipping, much like his smile. Sam looked at him derisively. Okay, time to play hard ball. He cleared his throat, “Sam, do you remember all the times I saved your life, thus leaving you in my debt.” Dean matter of factly held up a finger while smirking. “Time to cash that in.”

Furrowing his brow, Sam scowled at him. His mouth flattening into a thin line. “Dude, how many times have I saved your ass?” He asked. Dean opened his mouth to argue but instead ended up looking confused as he tried to think up a come back. “Exactly,” Sam finished. “Think we’re square.” He grinned at Dean as he opened a magazine that was left on the nightstand. 

“Plus, Dean. I know what you do at night when you think I’m asleep.” Sam went on attempting to hide his amusement. “So I really, really don’t wanna share a bed with you.” 

Dean blushed clear to the tip of his ears clearing his throat. “I—I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh,” Sam put down the magazine. “So if I check your laptop there won’t be searches for Casa Erotica, o-or...bustyasianbeauties.com?” He cocked an eyebrow and grinned so wide Dean thought his face may crack. “Oh! What about the animated Japanese porn you seem to like so much?”

The blush on Dean’s neck and cheeks turned from a light pink to a deep crimson red. He never thought Sammy was awake on those lonely nights he had to occupy himself in the dead of the night. “I-it’s not porn. It’s...it’s art!” He said attempting to save face as he spun on his heel and walked toward Garth’s room; Sam’s laughter bellowing from his door and following him down the hall.

Dean knocked on the doorframe of the room Garth had claimed. “Hey, Garth buddy. You up for a roommate?”

“Sorry Dean, no can do,” he said apologetically. “You see, I been sleeping in the ole Ranchero the last few nights and man, are my joints feeling it. Plus the weather is moving in and I can feel it in my knee.” He groaned as he reclined more on the bed. “Let’s face it Dean. I’m getting old and need the extra space to...what’s the term? Manspread?” He asked gesturing vaguely with his hands.

“Garth, you’re four years younger than me.” He scoffed. 

“Yeah, but I ain’t had the luxury of coming back from the dead. You’ve basically got all new hardware.”

“And manspreading, that’s more for…,” he trailed off as Garth stared at him with his big soulful eyes, a smirk gracing his face. “Forget it,” Dean mumbled as he strolled back toward the living room. Throwing his duffel down, he flopped onto the couch and threw his arm over his eyes. Better get comfortable, he thought, it’s going to be a long evening.

————

Once everyone had a chance to clean up, and Dean yet again propositioned everyone with the opportunity to bunk with him, the four hunters made it downstairs to the hotel bar, seating themselves at a table in the corner. Soft rock was playing over the sound system as a young waitress approached their table.

“Hey, guys, I’m Mandy. Can I get you some drinks?” She asked politely to the table.

“Yes, a bottle of whiskey for the table please,” Dean said as his eyes ran up her physique. “Also, Mandy,” he grinned at her in the most charming way, “is there any chance the kitchen is still open?”

“It closes at ten, which is in about,” she looked down at her wristwatch gauging the time, “twenty minutes. Can I put something in for you all?” Her hand came to rest on Dean’s shoulder, giving him a light squeeze. 

The boys put in their orders as (y/n) glared the waitress down for flirting with Dean. Imagining all the ways she could disfigure that pretty face came easily. “(Y/n)”, Sam said as he snapped his fingers in front of her face, breaking her out of her homicidal daydream. Coming to she looked around the table, noting the strange looks the boys were giving her, Dean’s quirked eyebrow included.

“What?” She asked.  
“Can I get you something to eat, dear?” The waitress asked.

“Oh, uh, bacon-cheeseburger and fries. Condiments on the side please.” She replied sheepishly. God where did that shit come from, she thought. Dean wasn’t hers to be territorial about, and he certainly wasn’t worth the time, she chastised herself.

Minutes later, everyone’s food came and each hunter dove into the meal. The evening passed in polite conversation as they ate and drank, attempting to wind down from the night. Soon after, Sam and Garth decided to turn in, saying the events of the day, plus the bottle of alcohol had done them in. Leaving (y/n) and Dean alone to each other’s company.

“I’m going to go get another bottle of whiskey,” (y/n) stated as she stood up and walked over to the bar.

As she passed Dean, he leaned into her as she brushed by him, taking in a deep lungful of her scent. To him she smelled like grapefruit and jasmine with a touch of steel and gunpowder. And she was most certainly Alpha. The revelation made his cock twitch as his jeans tightened just a smidge. What the hell had gotten into him, he thought.

(Y/n) settled back into her chair, fresh bottle of whiskey in hand, as she refreshed both their glasses. Their fellow patrons had dwindled to a measly handful of people. A couple in the corner trying to seal the deal for the night, a few men hustling a game of pool in the back room, and a few other wayward souls dotted around the bar looking to drown one problem or another. As the two sat there, glasses in hand and looking around to their counterparts, the tension became thick. An awkward silence between two not-so-genial acquaintances filled the moment.

“So…” y/n began.

“Soo…,” Dean replied with a slight chuckle. After a moment he looked up at her. “This is slightly, awkward, isn’t it?”

Y/n looked down at her glass, hiding her face behind a curtain of hair. “Yeah, it is. I’m going to kill Garth for abandoning me.” She snorted.

“Sam knows better, too,” came his reply as he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “Look if neither of us are gonna go up to the room we should at least make an effort at small talk, right?”

Y/n looked at him, her eyes narrowing in contemplation as her mouth twisted to the side. Quickly she knocked back the rest of her drink, leaving Dean in suspense as she refilled it again. “I suppose it couldn’t hurt.” Came her guarded reply.

“O-okay, cool. Cool.” Dean said nervously. He could feel his pulse pick up slightly fully expecting her to turn him down cold. He glanced around the room looking for some inspiration to a conversation starter as he tapped his fingers idly on the wooden table top. Geez, I’m normally a lot smoother than this, he thought. C’mon Dean, think. You can do this. Just talk to her like you do all the other women you sleep with...not that you want to sleep with her. Do you? Nah, that’s insane, you just met her. Yeah, well you had ‘just met’ all the others before…

Her questioning voice cut through his internal monologue. “That’s a nice car you drive. Had her long?” She raised her eyebrow waiting for a response as she delicately sipped at her whiskey.

“Yeah,” he nodded his head as he took a swig from his glass, “oh, yeah. She’s kind of a family heirloom. Dad bought her in ‘73, then he proposed to mom in the front seat. We’ve had her ever since. She’s been through, well, a lot. I rebuilt her several times, once from the ground up nearly.”

“Yeah? She looks mint condition.”

“Well nearly. I didn’t have the heart to get rid of mine and Sam’s initials whittled into the rear window deck. There’s also legos in the vents from when I was a kid, and a green army man that Sam jammed in the ashtray.” He smiled. “It’s the little things that make her special.”

“Yeah, it is,” y/n smiled down at her glass as she raised it to her lips once again.

“What about you, huh? A badass chick riding a 1940 Indian Chief? That’s something else,” he replied as he refilled both of their glasses.

Snorting she giggled at his exuberance. “First of all, why does it have to be ‘something else’ when a woman rides a hella cool motorcycle,” she lifted her hands, index and middle fingers of both curling down in an air-quote movement. “And B) his name is Duke.” Y/n finished matter-of-factly.

“Duke,” Dean repeated in a questioning tone as he dropped his chin toward his chest and raised his eyebrows, extending his bottom three fingers toward her on the hand his glass was grasped in. “And I didn’t mean anything bad by it, it’s just not common to see a hot girl driving a classic bike like that.” He shrugged sitting back in his chair.

A wistful faraway look crossed her face as she spun the glass between her fingers. “He’s named for my grandfather,” she replied to his unasked question hanging in the air.

Dean looked at her confused and skeptical. “You grandpa's name was Duke?”

Abruptly she looked at him and cocked her head to the side, lips forming a thin line as she narrowed her eyes at him. He was getting too close, too comfortable, she thought, I need to knock him down a peg or two. “Well maybe if you could stop enjoying the sound of your own voice for two seconds I could finish what I was saying,” she replied sarcastically, taking Dean aback. He raised his hands in surrender, motioning her to go on. 

“I spent my free time hanging out with my grandfather. He was big into cars and bikes and restoring the two. He wasn’t a typical chauvinist like the rest of my family and thought if I was going to spend time out there with him, I could at least learn something practical. So he taught me. All of it. When the weather was bad or he wasn’t feeling well, we’d spend our time watching John Wayne movies. Hence the name ‘Duke’.”

“Good name,” he said as his lips pulled into a line of agreement, eyebrows raised again, “and a smart man.”

Y/n’s mouth quirked up in a half smile as she got another faraway look in her eye. “I always thought so. He passed away last year.” Shit, she thought. I haven’t been able to say it out loud since it happened, now I’m spilling my guts to him? Get ahold of yourself. You don’t owe him jack shit.

“So, what’s your story,” Dean asked as he looked over the rim of his glass.

“What do you mean?” She replied, eyebrows quirked.

“Well, everyone’s got a story,” he gestured. “Sam and I lost our parents to a demon. We were born into the hunter lifestyle. We’ve caused and stopped the apocalypse. We’ve met angels and demons, not to mention God.” He jerked his chin toward her. “What’s yours?”

“What makes you think I have one?”

He sat there for a moment, a thoughtful look on his face. “I think your story is the most interesting of all. A lone hunter fighting the bad guys. Not to mention you’re a female Alpha traveling alone. You seemed to have a great relationship with your grandfather, but you’ve not mentioned the rest of you family.” He shrugged, only scratching the surface with his statements, but as he went on he began clawing at old wounds that hadn’t healed yet. “Plus, you’re either well off enough to afford Presidential Suites in ritzy hotels, you know, daddy’s money type,” he leaned back narrowing his eyes, “or you’re running a real good game of credit fraud. To each his own, but sister, you’re lying if you say you ain’t got a story.” He pulled a swig from his glass.

Emotions she wasn’t sure how to deal with were bubbling under the surface. Unable to pinpoint whether it was truly her need for privacy or her insecurity regarding her family life she blew up on Dean. Chewing him up one side and down the other. “Listen here, and you listen good, Dean Winchester. I don’t make a habit of telling my life story to just any pretty boy hunter who happens to waltz into my life. Yes, I’m a female Alpha, and yes we tend to be a rare breed. As for everything else you presume to know about me, you can shove it up your lily white ass cause none of it is true.” She pushed back from the table abruptly, grabbing the bottle of whiskey off the top. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I do believe I’ll turn in for the night.” She said as she marched out of the bar and to the elevator. Angrily slamming her hand against the button she pushed it over and over willing it to travel quicker.


	4. Family Reunions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After leaving Dean a confused mess in the hotel lobby, Y/n returns to the suite to find her friends bound and gagged in the dining room chairs. Turns out y/n’s brother has finally caught up to her and plans to bring her home with him no matter what...even if that entails breaking her first. After her brother’s sadistic ministrations, y/n call’s on the supposed bond between Dean and herself, hoping he’ll arrive in time to save her, Sam, and Garth before it’s too late. But will he make it in time?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 4 is up! Can’t wait to see how y’all react to this one! Chapter 5 is in the works and is due up soon! Thanks for all your support my lovelies :)
> 
> P.S. Smut coming soon, I promise ;)

Dean was sitting flabbergasted in the bar where y/n left him. He didn’t mean to push her that far. He only wanted her to reveal a little more about herself in order to poke holes in his quickly developing feelings for her. Unconsciously, he moved toward the elevator to find her aggressively pushing the call button.

“Y/n, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you,” he said almost sheepishly, bringing his hand up to rub the back of his neck as he slid the other into the pocket of his jeans.

“Bullshit. You don’t know when to leave well enough alone do you?” She whirled on him and marched across the tile dividing them. Standing on her tiptoes she infiltrated his personal space so they were nose to nose and nearly chest to chest. “Dean Winchester, I swear to God you are the most infuriating man I’ve ever met.” She let her words fly. “You’re insufferable. You keep poking and prodding at things I don’t want to talk about, and for good reason, too. There’s a reason I don’t like to open up about my past, just like I know for damn sure you don’t either. The quicker I can get out of this place and further from you, the better.” She spat the words, not meaning them but she hoped for his sake he’d believe her. When people got close to her, they got hurt; so the further Dean stayed from her the better for him in the long run.

Her insides were quivering with the effort it took to hurl the last few sentences at him. She knew deep down there was a reason she was brought to meet this man, and it far outweighed destiny or whatever you wanted to call it. No, it boiled down to the most biological thing. Pack. He was her Alpha, but she’d be damned if she gave in without a fight. She was Alpha too. She didn’t need a male to take care of her, a point she proudly prided herself on. She was strong, independent, smart, and didn’t need anyone. Least of all a self-righteous arrogant hunter with knee buckling green eyes and a body she wanted to explore with every part of her. Right?

Dean could feel her Alpha resisting, fighting the call between them just as he had been doing since they met. She was beautiful and intelligent, but too much of a spitfire for him to deal with on the regular. His baser instincts called him to knot and claim her, but his brain was telling him to be careful. She was independent and an Alpha to boot. He couldn’t order her around like he would an Omega, she would fight back in a heartbeat, especially if she felt threatened. 

With every passing minute his body cried out against him, beckoning him toward her until it felt as excruciating as the need to breathe. He knew if he were to touch her, he’d never let her go. This was insane. He couldn’t bring her into his life, his troubles. She’d always be on the run and in the face of more danger than she’s ever known. Not to mention, everything good he had always ended up broken and destroyed. He could resist her. He had to. Didn’t he? 

As he contemplated the swirling emotions within himself, his tongue unconsciously slipped between his parted lips, lightly running it over the plump bottom one. His gaze fell to her mouth before flicking up to her eyes, seeing the confusion and misplaced rage mixing with her urge to remain independent.

Standing in his personal space, she could smell Dean’s heady scent of whiskey, mint, and musk. Their breaths mixing in the shared space between them. She watched his gaze flick between her mouth and her own eyes, taking in the look of apprehension on his face as he caught his plush lip between his teeth. He obviously wanted to kiss her, but he wasn’t sure what her reaction would be. Squaring her shoulders and making up her mind, y/n found a boldness she wasn’t used to exhibiting. Roughly, she grabbed the open front of Dean’s flannel and pulled him to her, their mouths clashing together in the swirl of tongues and the gnash of teeth.

Dean set one hand roughly on her hip, pulling her body flush with his where she could feel his hardening member against her stomach. He slid his other calloused hand up her arm until it was cupping the space along her neck, his thumb rubbing the soft skin of her jaw as his fingers curled into the skin and soft hair at her nape. She nipped his lower lip with her teeth and a soft growl erupted from his chest. Slowly, he ran his tongue the length of hers, sending shivers up her spine as she mimicked the motion. They fell into the gently voracious give and take of each other, breathy sighs and muffled moans filling the air around them. In the background the elevator dinged, signaling its arrival, and y/n pulled away, Dean chasing her lips. She stepped back into the elevator and stared back at him while he dazedly opened his eyes, his hands still in position as if he were holding her ghost.

As y/n stood in the elevator, she could read the slowly forming question on his face and in his lust blown emerald eyes. What was that? Chuckling and looking very self-satisfied she gazed back at him and crossed her arms. Raising a shoulder in a half shrug she smirked at him and cocked an eyebrow. “You looked like you needed it,” she managed to say as the doors closed, leaving Dean alone in the lobby. 

When she was alone, y/n stumbled back against the wall and groaned. Her breathing came in panting gasps and her silken panties were soaked through with her slickness. Holy shit, she thought. It’s a good thing we’re all splitting up tomorrow. She had done so well hiding her emotions and masking the wanton moan that nearly forced its way out of her chest. Damn, Dean was a good kisser, and as she walked toward the hotel room door, leaving the elevator behind, she absentmindedly thought of what else Dean may be good at. 

As she walked into the darkened room, y/n heard muffled shouting coming from across the room. Flicking on the light switch beside the door, the overhead lights illuminated Sam and Garth, bound, gagged, and tied to two dining room chairs. “Oh my god,” she yelled as she began to move across the room. Right before she reached the two men, the crack of wood sounded as a heavy blow landed on the back of her head. Her whole world went dark.

————————

Sometime later voices began to rouse her from her doze. “Wakey, wakey, Little One,” a deep voice cooed, as cold water was poured over her head, effectively jerking her from her unconscious state.

She immediately began taking note of her surroundings. To her left were Garth and Sam, still bound and gagged, and a little bloodier than she remembered, but alive. She was tied to another chair in the center of the living space, hands and feet both tied to the frame of the chair but there was no cloth obstructing her mouth. 

The man that stood over her speaking the soothing words was familiar, but she couldn’t place him. Looking past him she noticed another man was lounging on the white sofa, his dark wash jeans and red button down in stark contrast to the white leather as he looked at her with the same self-satisfied smirk she had looked at Dean with earlier in the night. Suddenly remembering Dean, she began to glance around the room, noting his absence. Good, she thought, at least one of us is still able to save the rest. 

“Well, well if it isn’t my runaway sister,” he drawled as a sinister smile twisted his features. His blue eyes were dark as he raked his gaze over her. If she were any other woman she may have found him attractive, broad shoulders filled out his Oxford nicely and he had long muscular legs. His biceps were firm but not overly defined and his forearms were chiseled, like something from a porno or a wet dream. Over all he was the complete package, but she knew how sadistic he was, and she was not just any woman. “Good to see you, sis.” He tried to sound genial.

“Go to hell, Kai,” she spat, narrowing her eyes and gritting her teeth.

“Now, now, is that any way to speak to your Alpha?” His words flowed smoothly, but she could hear the danger edging every word.

“Last I checked I didn’t belong to anyone, asshole.” She rolled her eyes.

Chuckling he leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands in front of him. “Au contraire. You reek of Alpha,” he began smelling the air. “Alpha that’s not you. He must be something to get you all hot and bothered and...wet.” He grinned as if the two of them were sharing an inside joke. “But I digress, I don’t smell a claim on you, which is good because...you know you belong to me. You have since the beginning.” 

“What was your plan, Kai?” She looked into his eyes. “Show up, take my friends and I hostage, and talk me to death? Or were you hoping I’d come back with you?” Her lips fell into a thin line.

“Mother’s been worried about you, Little Alpha.” He said as he poked his bottom lip out into a sensuous pout. “She sent me to bring you home.”

“That’s the biggest load of crap I’ve ever heard,” she sassed. “Mom never cared about me, she only pretended to care before I presented. Then when it didn’t happen the way she planned, she shunned me and did everything in her power to get her way. You were always her favorite.”

“Mother was narrow-minded, yes. But had you just cooperated for once in your God damn life things would never have gone this way.” He shouted, before centering himself and lowering his voice to a suitable tone. “Do you know how long I’ve been trailing you? Following you across the nation just a step behind. Now I’ve finally caught up with you, and I plan to get what I came for.” He was pacing now, the excitement of the chase coming to a close coursing through his body. Whirling around he looked her over once more. “Now, y/n, I’m only going to ask once so be sensible, darling. Come home with me.” His voice was saccharine now, sweeter than honey but soured with the hard edge of his fury.

“No.”

Kai looked taken aback by her quick, blunt answer before he schooled his features. “Come home and Charles will leave your friends in one piece,” he growled as he slung his arm around to point between Sam and Garth. 

“I thought you said you were only going to ask once?” Y/n sassed. Her mouth was going to get her killed one of these days.

“I’m feeling generous,” he narrowed his eyes as he locked them with hers. “Last chance. Come home.”

“Over my dead body,” she let out with a warning growl, “because the only way Charles over there is going to harm my friends, is if I’m dead.”

Sighing he stood up and walked over to stand behind her as he lightly ran a finger down her neck and across the peak of her shoulder. “I had so hoped this would be easier,” he said light-heartedly.

Circling back around to stand in front of her, Kai looked into her eyes. Y/n could see the pent up anger and frustration brimming over the tightly restrained facade. He smiled at her, as if apologetically, before setting his jaw and letting his hand fly. 

The momentum of his backhanded slap sent her head whipping to the side, her hair flying around her as the impact caused blood to flow inside her mouth. Spitting the blood to the floor vehemently she glared up at her brother. “Is that all you got, bitch?”

He flew at her, his hand gripping tightly around her neck, forceful enough to cut off her airway but not enough to outright kill her. Looking past him to the boys, she could see them struggling against their bonds, wanting nothing more than to help. Sam’s eyes widened in warning silently commanding her to be quiet and submit until Dean showed up. 

Kai’s voice drew her gaze back to him. “You know exactly what I’m capable of y/n,” he growled. “Now we can do this the easy way in which you submit and come home with me, agreeing to be my Omega; Or…” he trailed off as he pulled a knife from the sheath in the small of his back. “We can do this the fun way.” His smile turned sinister. “Either way, I get what I want. I’ll break you if need be.”

“Do what you want,” she ground out. “I’m not leaving here with you.” She jerked against her restraints, knowing full well she was tied up for his protection. He may be larger and more muscular, but she was small and scrappy and has always been able to kick his ass. He was scared of her...at least enough to take precautions.

“Have it your way,” he chuckled. Moving between her immobile legs, Kai reached down with the knife, positioning it in the gap underneath the first button of her flannel. In one quick move he sliced through the threads sending the button flying and letting the fabric fall apart. He made quick work of the remaining buttons until her shirt fell completely open revealing her abdomen and black lace bra.

“Such a shame,” he murmured as he took in her form, making her skin crawl. “You really are beautiful.” Leaning down he put himself on her level, gazing into her face before crashing his lips to hers. Bringing his free hand up to force her jaw open, he slid his tongue past her lips forcibly exploring her mouth. When he withdrew she bit down on his lip hard enough to split the skin and draw blood, as well as his ire.

“Bitch,” he bellowed as he drew back his fist and slammed it into her face. The pain from the hit was excruciating as the shockwave from the impact resonated through her cheekbone. Willing herself not to show any reaction, she clenched her jaw and spat out the mix of his blood and saliva still present in her mouth. Laughing darkly, Kai approached her panting form and placed the tip of the large knife against the skin of her chest. “I’m going to enjoy this.” As the last word slipped from his mouth he yanked the knife in a downward motion, slicing the delicate flesh open. Crimson leaked from the several inch long gash running across her collarbone down to the swell of her breast.

Y/n clenched her jaw harder, letting only a hiss of breath through her teeth. She was bound and determined not to show him any weakness. He used the knife to leave a few more slashes, one a few inches above the first, two more on her arm, and one traversing her rib cage. With each one she remained stoic, jaw clenched and determined not to let the tears welling in her eyes fall. 

“Have you had enough,” Kai asked. “I’d hate to mar your pretty flesh anymore than I have to.”

“I’ve had enough of your bullshit,” y/n ground out between clenched teeth. Looking him in the eye she challenged him with her next words. “You’re pathetic y’know? Torturing a girl while she’s tied to a chair. Are you scared, Kai? Scared I’ll kick your ass if I’m not trussed up like a roasted pig?” She grinned, blood coating her teeth and staining the soft flesh of her mouth. She could tell she was getting to him.

He took a steadying breath as he looked over the damage he had already done. “Wow, the bitch bites. I wish I could say I was surprised.” Walking over to his minion, Kai whispered in his ear, the underling looking to him as he nodded his head and disappeared behind y/n. Before she knew it a scrap of cloth was being shoved in her mouth as another strip was forced between her teeth and tied at the back of her head. The boys were struggling harder to escape their bonds without Charles breathing down their necks. 

As Charles came out from behind y/n, a sadistic look spread over his overly common features, in his hand he grasped a wooden baseball bat. Garth managed to slip a knife he had hidden on his person up into his hands where he set to work sawing into his bindings, attempting to free himself before anymore harm came to y/n. 

“I’m going to let Charles over here teach you a thing or two about respect.” Came Kai’s voice from across the room motioning to the man with the bat as the boys worked even quicker to escape their bonds. “Maybe when he’s done you’ll see the error of your ways and realize what you need to do.”

Charles stepped up, the handle gripped tightly between each of his meaty palms. He planted his feet wide, pulling back to begin his swing. Dean, y/n thought, there’s still Dean. He’ll be here any minute. He’ll save us. The barrel of the wooden bat collided with her left side, knocking the wind from her chest as something inside gave way to the force. A blinding white hot pain shot through her body, gasping around the gagging cloth in a silent scream, tears streaming down her face as her eyes slammed shut. Dean, she thought again, knowing her cries wouldn’t make it more than a few feet. 

This time Charles repositioned himself so he was standing parallel to her, bat raised above his head. Remembering what the vamp said about Dean being her mate, y/n began chanting his name in her head, hoping against hope he would get the message. She knew it was unlikely, but what else could she do? Slamming the bat down in a swift blow, Charles struck her forearm, bones snapping against the wooden arm of the chair. She screamed around the soiled cloth this time, the pain of the new injury adding to the intensity of everything else and causing her stomach to roil. Dean, she thought again, loud as she could.

Still adamantly not wanting to give in to Kai, she glared at him through the sobs and the pain and the white hot rage. She could see her defiance was fueling his own rage, but deep down she knew he wouldn’t kill her. He wanted her too badly. No, he just wanted to break her, make her come home. Refusing to give, in she met his eyes. Kai looked to Charles and gave the silent order. Charles stepped behind her and swung for the fences bringing the bat upside the back of her skull. Before everything around her went dark again she sent out one final scream down the bond she wasn’t even sure was there.

DEAN!

———————

Walking around in the garden after the kiss was helping to calm Dean’s frazzled nerves, as well as his throbbing member, still hard from the brief moment in the lobby. This woman he met was something else, she didn’t easily give in to his flirtations and she enjoyed teasing the shit out of him. Something he wasn’t used to, not to mention she was a badass.

Dean prided himself on being able to tell when women liked him and when women wanted to sleep with him. If they were hesitant, he was pretty smooth about talking them into it. A compliment here, a meaningful question asked there, all the booze they could drink, he rarely struck out. But y/n was different, his usual tricks didn’t work on her which left him looking like an imbecile. 

“Dean,” came his name carried on a whisper. Looking around the garden for where or who it came from, he stood there confused. He was definitely drunk enough that the whisper could have been a figment of his imagination. Sitting down on the edge of the fountain, Dean dropped his head into his hands to contemplate his situation with y/n.

When he thought about her, he couldn’t help but grin. She was so wild and full of life, sassy as hell, and beautiful too. Although she tended to get on his nerves there wasn’t a thing he would change about her. He didn’t care that she was an Alpha, he never saw himself as the type to claim an Omega and settle down anyway. From the first time he saw her, he knew she was his match. The vamp was right. He’s spent all of this time wondering what the feelings in the deepest recesses of his chest were. The white-hot rage that reared its head when she was hurt should have been his first clue. He needed to talk to her, he needed to find out if she felt the same foreign emotions as he did.

“Dean,” came his name again. This time it was clearer, as if it were coming from the other side of the rose bush across the way. Jumping to his feet he ran to where he thought the voice had come from, only to find himself alone in the large garden. Slowly his name became a cacophonous sound being repeated over and over until it lost all meaning, building from the silent whisper until it reached a loud crescendo. 

After a moment it died down, leaving the space around him eerily quiet. Drawing his gun and the demon blade, Dean squared up ready to put down whatever monster thought they could get the jump on him. “Dean,” his name was called again, this time loud and discernible, as if y/n were standing next to him. Confused he stood there looking around, expecting her to come bounding out of the foliage. “DEAN!” This time it was as if his name were screamed at the top of her lungs, deafening enough for him to hastily slam the heels of his hands up to his ears. A futile move since it did little to muffle her cries, it was almost as if she were inside his head.

“Y/n,” he tried tentatively, sending her name into the space inside his mind as he spoke her name aloud in a near reverent whisper.

“Dean,” she cried one last time, on a sob. “Help.” 

That was all he needed to spur him into action. She sounded so helpless, so wounded. Panic began to rise up in his chest twisting at his heart and unleashing the rage that seemed to overcome him when she was in danger. Please be okay, he chanted as he ran up the stairwell not wanting to waste any time with the elevator.

As he approached the door he decided to forego the keycard. Placing a solid kick right above the lock, he managed to send the door swinging open. As he entered the room, he took in the scene. Y/n was tied to a chair, unconscious, bloody, and beaten, her arm at an odd angle. The commotion had drawn the two strangers’ attention long enough for Garth to spring free of his bindings and release Sam as well. 

Dean raised his gun at the stranger who eerily looked like y/n, aiming it at his brother and Garth retrieved their own weapons, effectively outnumbering the newcomers. “Who are you,” he growled, a heavy warning in the sound that erupted from deep within his chest. Any Alpha in their right mind would have immediately ceased and desisted, especially after realizing they were toe-to-toe with Dean Winchester.

“Ah,” came Kai’s cordially condescending reply. “I’m y/n’s brother and Alpha, Kai.” His eyes wandered over the hunter as he scented the air, matching the scent that clung to y/n to this tall man. “You must be the hunter my sister is all hot for.” He chuckled. 

Narrowing his eyes, Dean looked over Kai, noting his pretentiousness and thinly consumed rage. Whether the rage was because he busted in cutting his torture session short or because y/n was running that smart mouth of her’s, he wasn’t sure. “What do you want?” Dean barked.

“My associate and I are merely here to retrieve my darling sister and take her home with us.” He grinned nonchalantly.

Motioning toward Kai with his Colt .45, Dean spoke up. “The way I see it, you can leave here on your feet and never contact y/n again, or you can leave in a body bag. At which point you sure as hell won’t be able to contact her. Your choice.”

Kai smirked as he took in Dean and his unwavering resolve. “Loyalty after such a short period of time, that’s very admirable. But you see, I’ll have to leave your offer on the table. I’m not leaving here without y/n.”

“Dealer’s choice then,” Dean said as he pulled the trigger, wanting nothing more than to put this asshat six feet under.

Quicker than lightning Kai grabbed his man Charles, pulling him in front of him, using his body as a shield. As the bullet entered his chest, Kai made a break for the door disappearing down the hall. 

“Sam, you and Garth go stop him. I’ll take care of y/n,” he said with a hitch in his voice as he motioned to her rag doll form. He was barely able to contain his emotions as despair and worry ate away at his resolve. 

Garth was already out the door pursuing y/n’s sadistic brother when Sam stopped beside Dean. “Careful, she’s taken a pretty bad beating,” he murmured to his brother. “Her ribs may be broken from the hit she took, her arm too.”

Dean merely nodded, tears glossing over his bright green eyes. “What brother can willingly beat his own sibling within an inch of their life?” He choked out.

Sam looked at him sympathetically, thinking back over all the trials the brothers had been through together. “Y’know, Dean, there was a time each of us did that, or tried to at least.”

“But that was different, Sammy,” his voice broke as he called the memories to the forefront of his mind. “We were both under the influence of something else. This…,” he motioned to y/n’s still form, running a hand over his face as he cleared his throat. “This was a temper tantrum. It was intentional.” His wavering voice was cut through with fury and rage, red rimming his vision.

“I know you care for her,” Sam began, “But if he really is her Alpha…”

“He’s not. He can’t be.” Dean cut Sam off. “Go help Garth and hustle back. We’re going to need all hands on deck.”

As Sam left and Dean approached y/n to release her from the ropes cutting into her soft flesh, he felt like the wind had been knocked out of him, as if he were the one in the chair beaten and battered. Taking in the sight before him, he was sure of one thing, Kai was not her Alpha. An Alpha would never beat the shit out of their mate. Sure there were the few Alphas he knew who were rougher with their partners than need be, but in his mind those men were not true Alpha males.

Dean knelt down in front of y/n, taking in her injuries. He arm was broke for sure, the cuts were deep enough they would require stitches but, to his relief, they were no longer bleeding freely. A deep bruise was already spread over her rib cage, purple and angry looking as it covered the delicate skin. He ghosted his fingers over the bruising on her cheekbone, she would definitely have a black eye soon. Bruised imprints of fingers were discernible both on her throat and along her jawline. His heart broke. If he’d gone after her sooner he could have stopped all of this from happening, she would be whole and awake and sassing his ear off. Instead, he was left wondering if she would be okay, contemplating whether she should be taken to the hospital or patched up in the bunker.

Gently he cupped her cheek with his hand, his unshed tears finally spilling over. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” He whispered as he pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead, his grief nearly immobilizing as he dealt with feelings and emotions he didn’t know he was capable of. 

Sure, he and Sammy had been through hell more than a time or two, each left to deal with their grief in various ways. But the profound loss he felt when Sammy was in the cage or hurt near irreparably was nothing compared to the thought of him losing his mate this soon after finding her. 

“I should have been here sooner. I should have chased you down after the kiss in the lobby.” His lips trembled as he drew in a breath. “I should have done more.” He buried his face in her abdomen, conscious of her possibly broken ribs. 

“Dean,” she whispered as her good arm moved to card her fingers through his hair. He looked up at her, a small flood of relief releasing some of his pent up tension. A wobbly half-smile graced her mouth as she looked at him. “It worked,” a sob wrenched itself from her. “You’re here.” Tears spilled down her face.

“Shh, sweetheart, don’t talk.” He wiped the tears away with the back of his hand. “I’m here.” He stroked her hair. “I’m here.”

Dean vowed then and there no matter what happens, he was going to do everything in his power to protect her and keep her safe. Nothing like this would ever happen to her again, not on his watch. If she didn’t want him as her mate, then so be it, but he knew one thing for sure. He could live without her in his life if that’s what she wanted, but he couldn’t live without her in this world.


	5. Recovery is a Bitch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kai has disappeared, and y/n is pretty banged up. Sam insists on taking her to a hospital, but Dean wants to honor her wishes and not seek medical help, causing a row between the two brothers. Making it to the bunker Cas is able to heal her but just barely. Will y/n pull through?

Chapter 5: Recovery Is A Bitch

Carefully Dean lifted y/n from the chair she’d been bound to, slipping one arm under her legs as he wound the other behind her back attempting not to crush her injured arm or aggravate the wound to her ribs. Y/n was slipping in and out of consciousness, but whether it was due to the pain of her wounds or the blow to her skull Dean wasn’t sure. As quickly and carefully as he possibly could, Dean rushed her downstairs. As he emerged through the front doors, y/n limp in his arms, Sam and Garth came bounding back across the parking lot.

“He got away.” Sam panted from the exertion of the chase. Noticing y/n hovering on the edge of alertness, Sam motioned to her as he spoke to Dean. “What’s the plan for her? Hospital?”

Hearing Sam’s voice y/n opened her eyes, scanning the parking lot and the hunters surrounding her. “No.” She coughed with a groan. “No hospitals.” Resting her head against Dean’s solid chest. She could feel the soft fabric of the flannel rubbing against her cheek with each of his shaky breaths and hear his heart beating erratically beneath the firm muscle cloaked in plaid. Taking short rapid breaths in order to keep from passing out from the pain in her side, y/n’s eyes flicked to the empty spot beside the impala.

Groaning loudly she buried her face in Dean’s chest, tears slipping from her eyes to soak into his shirt. “Shit,” Dean mumbled afraid he had hurt her. “You okay? Did I—.”

“I’m fine,” she gritted out through her clenched jaw, clearly not fine. “The asshole stole Duke.”

“Duke?” Sam and Garth questioned at the same time.

“Her bike,” Dean explained. “Garth, you and Sam run up to the room and grab the gear. I’ll patch y/n up the best I can then we’ll hit the road.”

“10-4.” Garth replied as he jogged back toward the hotel. Dean was ever grateful the gangly Beta never asked questions, he just did as he was asked, fully confident he would get an explanation sooner or later.

Sam, however, was more worried about y/n; and when he caught his brother’s eye he could see the thinly veiled rage and grief just below the surface of his cool demeanor. “Dean, what’s the—“

“Sam, it wasn’t a request it was an order,” Dean barked in a warning tone, his Alpha slipping through. 

Sam looked as if he may attempt to argue once more, but the look Dean gave him was strong enough to kill as he turned to the impala, y/n in his grasp. Hesitantly, Sam turned and followed after Garth.

As Dean approached the car, he set y/n’s feet on the ground while keeping his other arm behind her back for support. “Alright, sweetheart. I’m going to open the door, can you sit on the edge of the seat so I can patch up the cuts?” He asked in a calm and authoritative tone. Weakly she nodded her head as she did what was asked of her. Dean disappeared to dig the medical kit out of the trunk, returning to see her slumped against the doorframe for support breaths coming out raggedly and new blood seeping from the previously clotted wounds.

Retrieving the bottle of whiskey from the floorboard, he uncapped it and handed her the full bottle. “Take a few swigs. It’ll help with the pain,” he said simply. She took the proffered bottle and downed several good sized chugs, enough to make him worry about her passing out. Quickly, he doused a sterile pad with the amber liquid, using it to pat at the cuts and scrapes left on her body in the wake of her brother’s tantrum.

Hissing at the sting of the alcohol she let out a low growl; but otherwise y/n took the patching up like a champ, sitting stoically as Dean sewed the gashes shut with the suture. The stitching job wasn’t the neatest in the world. Hell, he knew there were pre-med students who could outshine him in that department, but it would do the job, although it may leave some nasty scars behind. By the time Sam and Garth returned to the car, Dean had y/n sewn up and her arm splinted to prevent movement as she rested in the back seat, her head pillowed by his jacket as a thick woolen army blanket covered the rest of her beaten down body.

“So what’s the plan?” Garth asked.

“Sam and I are going to take y/n to the bunker so she can mend.” Dean said as he tried not to make eye contact with Sam. He couldn’t bear to see his brothers indignation at the moment.

“But Dean,” Sam began. “She needs a doctor.” He was nearly yelling, his jaw ticking with the anger coursing through his body.

“You think I don’t know that?” Dean spat at his younger brother. “She said no hospitals. And honestly, after everything that’s happened tonight, her brother will be checking every single one for her. He ain’t done with her, she needs our protection.”

“But what if she’s bleeding internally? What if she goes to sleep and doesn’t wake up?” Sam’s eyes were pleading. 

“Sam. Drop it.” Dean growled in command, his Alpha slipping through its barriers again as Sam’s Beta recognized the command. “She said no hospitals, so we ain’t going to the hospital.” 

“But—“

“I. Said. Drop. It.” Looking at his brother Dean took in the concern he held for y/n, causing his Alpha to stand down. Clenching his teeth and giving a short nod, Sam walked around to the other side of the car and folded himself into the passenger seat not bothering to say goodbye to Garth.

“I’ll hang around town and check out the hospitals nearby. Keep my ear to the ground, see if I can catch a trail on ole Kai,” Garth offered Dean.

“Sounds good, Garth.” The Alpha nodded. “Let us know if you find anything, will ya?”

“Sure thing, Deano,” he said as he turned back toward his car as well.

“And Garth?” Dean called as the scrawny Beta turned. “Thanks for your help.” He shot him an apologetic, half-smile.

“It’s all part of the job,” he called back. “But you’re welcome.”

Crawling into the driver’s side of the antique car, Dean started the engine, peeling out of the parking lot and pointing the car toward Lebanon and the bunker. After a few minutes Sam tried to broach the subject again, hoping to God his brother wouldn’t kill him right then and there. “Dean…” he trailed off waiting for the eldest brother’s acknowledgement.

He grunted his attention without ever looking to his younger brother, waiting for him to say what was on his mind as a million different thoughts ran through his head, every one of them centered on y/n. “Dean,” Sam began again, “she needs professional medical help. You weren’t there, you didn’t see what Kai put her through. She could be—.”

“You think I don’t get that?!” Dean exploded, cutting off his brother’s words. “You think for one minute that I would have willingly not been there had I known what she was going through earlier?” Dean’s chest was heaving with rage, remorse, relief, too many emotions to pinpoint as they all came to a head. “All three of you could have died tonight, Sam, and it would have been my fault!”

“Yeah, but Garth and I didn’t! Y/n on the other hand could die before we even make it to the bunker.” Sam bit out, trying to use logic to appeal to his brother’s addled brain. 

Dean’s jaw tightened in an attempt to keep from saying something to his brother he didn’t even mean, instead choking out the one thing his traumatized Alpha brain could muster up. “She’ll be fine, Sam. She’s strong, she’ll make it to the bunker. Call Cas, have him meet us there. Even at half-power he can heal her major injuries.”

Sam nodded and did as he was told; Dean returning his attention to the road. The words ‘she’ll be fine,’ becoming a mantra he repeated over and over in his mind. “She’s gotta be fine,” he whispered to himself as the lines on the road became nothing more than white and yellow blurs.

For every minute of the near eight hour drive, Dean was on edge. Y/n was in the backseat slipping between sleep and consciousness as he sped the car home, his eyes flicking to the rear view mirror every few minutes to check on her state. Sam was practically grinding his teeth to dust in his effort not to start another argument with his Alpha brother. 

By the time the three of them made it to the bunker, it was mid morning. Dean pulled the car down the hidden path leading to the enormous garage, parking Baby and abandoning his things in order to carefully extract y/n from the backseat. Cas was waiting for them inside as Dean carefully carried y/n down the hallway and placed her on the bed in the room next to his. “Cas,” he spoke to the angel hot on his heels. “I need you to heal her.”

“Dean, I’m not sure if my powers are quite strong enough.” He replied. “With my grace—,”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. You’re operating on stolen grace right now,” Dean barked. “But I need you to try. Hell, half-power you is better than taking her to the hospital.”

“Dean, I—,”

“Just. Try.” He was nearly snarling now. “It don’t have to be the full Nelson here, Cas! Just check her over and make sure there’s nothing internally wrong, set her bones. The rest will heal with time.”

The angel stared at Dean, questions circling in his eyes, questions Dean didn’t have time to answer. Not until he knew y/n was going to be okay.

“Alright,” the heavenly warrior acquiesced.

Cas walked over to the bed, gingerly perching on its edge as he placed two fingers on y/n’s forehead. Closing his eyes in concentration, Cas used his stolen powers to search her broken body, seeking out the worst of the injuries as Dean requested. After a few heartbeats, he stood, removing his fingers from the space between her closed eyes, and turned to the hunter.

“She’ll be fine. I healed some minor bleeding in her brain, as well as the concussion. Her ribs and arm were trickier since I could not fully mend the shattered bones. They are still bruised pretty bad but the worst has been healed to hairline fractures. She should heal up fine in a couple weeks. The bruises on her face and the cuts on her chest also healed well.”

Dean let out a sigh of relief he didn’t know he’d been holding. “Thanks Cas.” His voice nearly broke with the mix of exhaustion and overwhelming relief.

With that Cas left the room, opting to allow Dean some alone time with the young woman he brought home. Pulling up the desk chair to sit by her bed, Dean could tell her breathing was coming much easier now that the bones of her ribs weren’t shattered to pieces. The bruising on her face and neck was gone, leaving behind smooth unmutilated flesh. He sat by her bedside for two days until she woke up. Screaming.

“Y/n,” Dean breathed out as he was roused from his doze by her cries. “Y/n,” he leaned forwards grabbing her shoulders to hold her still as he brought her up into his arms, comforting her. “I’m here.” He rocked her as he stroked her hair, making soothing noises in her ear. “It’s just a nightmare.”

As he spoke to her, she began to calm down, allowing his baritone timbre to wash over her as she clung to his chest like a helpless babe. Realizing what she was doing once she was fully cognizant, she lightly pushed the large hunter away as she got her breathing under control. Looking around the stark white room, she noticed her things were sitting on the desk, the chair vacated by Dean as he soothed her from her night terror. “Where are we?” She asked hesitantly. “What happened?”

“We’re in Kansas, at the Men of Letters bunker.” Dean said soothingly. “As for what happened, what do you remember?” He wanted to get a gauge on what she could recall so as not to frighten her too much. 

“We worked the vamp case,” y/n began as she pondered back through the last memories she had. “Then I got us the suite in that gaudy hotel… I yelled at you and you apologized for being a dick… I kissed you… Went upstairs… Oh god…” She trailed off as her face turned white. “Did Kai really show up?” She asked, her hand flying to her chest where her brother had cut into her flesh to find the marks absent; next her fingers sought out her ribs, which were still painfully bruised and hurt like a bitch. “Ow.” She hissed.

“Yeah, Kai worked you over pretty badly,” Dean said concerned, not wanting to push too much. A million questions were swirling in his brain right then. He wanted to know why. Why was Kai after her? Why did Kai say he was her Alpha? Why did Kai beat her so brutally? Why, why, why. “Y/n, can I ask—.”

“No,” she cut him off. “You aren’t allowed to ask me anything involving Kai or why he was there. I can take care of myself,” she stated as she attempted to move from the bed, hissing in pain at the movement.

Dean stared at her for a long moment, his eyes taking in the frightened girl before him. To anyone else she would seem fine, strong and fearless even, but he knew better. He wanted answers, he wanted to help her, hell, he wanted to protect her. Deciding on the best course of action, he finally spoke up. “Fine, you won’t give me answers about why you were beaten till you were nearly dead,” Dean shot out, “then you’re ass isn’t going anywhere for a good long time, sweetheart.” At this point his hands were planted on her shoulders, pushing her down to lay back in the pillows as he began pulling the blankets up around her torso again.

“Dean,” she began, but he cut her off.

“I don’t want to hear it y/n. If you aren’t going to talk, you’re going to stay here till you’re better...and then some,” he finished with a smirk.

“Dean Winchester, the minute I’m able to move, my ass is leaving the batcave.”

“I wouldn’t bet on it ‘cause your bike is gone.” Dean set about righting the room, placing the chair back at the desk where it belongs and gathering the beer bottles that accumulated during his late night vigils.

“IT’S WHAT?” She howled, her eyes wide, a disbelieving look on her face.

His shoulder tensed at her shrieking tone, heart plummeting to his stomach in a reminder of something else he couldn’t take care of that night. Turning he looked at her and took in her startled state, so many gears turning in that brain of hers. “Gone, vamoosed, not here.” He chuckled, trying to lighten the mood.

“Dean Winchester, I don’t know what the hell you’re playing at, but if I—.”

“Why are you blaming me?” He spoke over her, cutting off the rest of her sentence. “It was your brother who stole it; my ass was saving your’s when it happened!” Apparently attempting to lighten the levity of the situation was not the smartest course of action here.

Her face turned twelve shades of red as she continued processing the new information, jaw twitching with each new thought. Kai was an asshole. He knew what the bike meant to her, and now Duke was in his possession. He was going to use it as a bargaining tool. 

“Listen y/n,” Dean spoke up, leveling with her, “just focus on getting better. Cas healed most of your wounds so the worst is over. Once you’re better we’ll track down the asshat, get your bike back, and deal with his problems.” He looked at her, eyebrows raised as he let his Alpha slip out, adding weight to his following words. “But for now, you need to take it easy. Recoup, read a book, rest, but do not move from that bed any more than you have to.”

“Fine.” Y/n gritted out, not appreciating the patronizing behavior of the hunter in front of her as her own Alpha was basking in the silent command. She turned her attention inwardly, attempting to understand this new behavior her Alpha was exhibiting. 

“Thatta girl,” Dean smiled as he stalked toward the door. 

Before stepping into the hallway he stopped, turning his gaze back toward y/n. She was gnawing on her lip and looked lost in thought as her gaze took in the rough woolen texture of the blanket draped around her abdomen. He knew she had a lot on her mind, especially after the last few days, but he just wanted her to let him in. He wanted to help, he wanted to be there for her, he wanted...her. Clearing his throat he drew her gaze. 

In his dark green eyes she saw so many emotions swirling she didn’t know where to begin. He looked relieved and confused and desperate to help, but, under all that, she thought she saw a flicker of unbridled need. A need to protect her, a need to please her, a need for her.

He rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand in an almost bashful manner. “You uh- you hungry? You haven’t eaten in a few days, I could whip something up.”

Y/n’s stomach growled so loud at the mention of food she was sure Dean could hear it from across the room, startling her even further. Her brows furrowed as she answered. “Uh- yeah, I suppose I am.”

“Great, I’ll get something going then. Burgers sound good?” He pointed toward her as he moved toward the hallway.

“Yeah, sure.” 

“Awesome,” he stepped out the door as her voice stopped him.

“Hey, Dean?” He looked back at her. “Thanks...for everything.” She offered him a small smile.

“You’re welcome,” he nodded as he turned and walked toward the kitchen. He pulled his plush bottom lip between his teeth as he trekked down the hallway lost in thought. His lips soon eased into a grin so large it crinkled the corners his eyes and unearthed the rarely seen dimples that sat either side of his mouth. Maybe he’d get somewhere with her, yet.


	6. Bio 101

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After y/n’s accident, the boys do everything they can to keep her entertained and make sure she heals properly. When the early signs of her heat wake her one morning, an awkward conversation with Dean is had.

It turns out, being the boys’ patient was not all it was cracked up to be. Sam was good company most times, but talking of lore nonstop was becoming monotonous. He was always bringing in ancient tomes for the two of them to flip through, discussing theory behind monsters and comparing notes from hunts they’d each been on. 

In the beginning the camaraderie was fun, enjoyable even, but as the days drug on she realized she hadn’t spent a single waking moment alone. If Sam wasn’t talking her ear off about ghouls, demons, vamps and the like, Dean was fussing over her like a mother hen. He was constantly coming in to ply her with food or alcohol, or poking and prodding at her ribs to check how they were healing. 

By the end of the week she was beginning to pull her hair out in frustration and annoyance. The telltale cramping in her lower abdomen indicating her heat was about to come on didn’t help the matter either. Her cycle had been relatively regular until her mom put her through the numerous experimental trials to change how she had presented. Now they were off schedule, sometimes even taking her by surprise as her body tried to work itself back into a somewhat normal rhythm, causing y/n to have to pay extra attention to her body’s warning signs.

The day her heat came, y/n awoke with a thin layer of sweat shining across her flushed skin, Dean’s body slumped over the side of her bed. The past few nights Dean had taken to hanging out in her room as they watched movies on the small TV he placed on her bureau, and each morning she found him like this. Today his hand was resting on her forearm as his opposite arm cushioned his head, face upturned as if he had fallen asleep watching her. His body, while mostly in the chair, was half on her bed as well, the position not looking comfortable in the slightest. 

Silently, y/n let her hand trail through his golden brown hair as she took in the peaceful expression on his face. His eyelashes rested against the peaks of his cheekbones, the worry lines on his brow smoothed from the rest he so desperately needed. Even breaths escaping through the slightly parted pout of his lips.

As her body inched closer and closer toward her heat, his scent became more and more intoxicating. The musky tones of his soap mixed with the scent of the whiskey he had drank last night and the mint of his toothpaste. Another deeper musk she could only associate with Dean carried the tones of worn leather, gasoline, and storm clouds. The smells shouldn’t have mixed together as well as they did; but the longer he lied there the deeper her breaths became, until her head was foggy and swirling with nothing but Dean.

Another cramp wracked her body, and y/n shoved at Dean’s shoulder to wake him. He sat up lightning quick as he looked around the room, one hand darting for the gun in his waistband, the other absentmindedly making its way to his chin to wipe at the non-existent drool. Her eyebrow shot up as she leveled a questioning look in his direction.

“Dude, chill. It’s just me,” she chuckled. “You fell asleep by the bed again.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled as he ran a hand down his face to rub the sleep away. Groaning he closed his eyes and stretched, his back and shoulders popping and cracking as he worked out the kinks from his awful sleeping position. As he threw his hands above his head, the hem of his charcoal grey t-shirt rose enough for the smooth skin of his lower abdomen to peek out, a dark thatch of hair disappearing below his waistline. 

Y/n’s mouth began to water as she wondered just what lay beneath the layers he had on, her tongue darting out to moisten her dry lips as she tucked the bottom one between her teeth. Opening his eyes, Dean caught her reaction, a smirk breaking out across his face. Immediately the heat rushed to her cheeks, making her already flushed skin even warmer. Quickly she raised her gaze from his toned stomach and began trying to find a spot somewhere in the room to focus her attention.

“You okay, y/n?” Dean asked, the smirk still on his face though it had been joined at some point by the quirked eyebrow.

“Y-yeah I’m fine.” Y/n stammered out. “I-I was just thinking, maybe you should find a case for you and Sam? Nothing big obviously, but I’m sure there are some salt-and-burns nearby. It’s just, I’m doing better now, y’know? My ribs don’t hurt near as much as they did last week, and my arm is so much better. I can take care of myself for a couple days.” She gulped as she finished rambling attempting to moisten her bone dry mouth.

Dean looked at her speculatively, his eyes narrowing as he took in her disheveled state. She swore he could see through her bravado right down to the desperate needy thing she was at her core. “What’s wrong, y/n?”

“N-nothing is wrong p-per se,” she choked out, holding her breath. His serpentine eyes bore into her own as she attempted to wait him out. His gaze always made her feel vulnerable, like he could open up her brain and see what she was thinking. He quirked the eyebrow again, cocking his head as he pursed his lips, clearly waiting for her to tell him what he wanted to know. 

“Fine,” she let out an a gust of air as her body nearly physically deflated. “M-my heat is coming on and I need you boys out of here for a while. I’m not trying to run you out of your home, but you being here will just make things worse and more unbearable than they need to be. So if you could just leave for a few days and let me alone, I can get through this no problem.” She was rambling again, picking at her cuticles to avoid Dean’s gaze as long as possible.

Dean’s face was scrunched up in a look of confusion mixed with disgust, his brows pulled down creating lines between them and his mouth screwed up by the scrunching of his nose. His gaze was locked with hers as he tried to wrap his head around what she was asking for. “I-I thought you were an Alpha?” 

“Yes, I am.” She answered confusedly.

“S-s-so you’re telling me female Alphas don’t go through ruts?” His face hadn’t changed from before, but his hands were waving animatedly as if they could figure things out for him.

Y/n blinked at him several times as she tried to understand his confusion. “Nooo…,” she drew the word out. “We experience heats just like Omegas.”

Dean looked at her, his face slackening a bit. “Huh…” He almost seemed flabbergasted. “So y’all have normal…” he trailed off as his cheeks and ears tinged pink, “l-lady…,” he cleared his throat, palm facing out as he moved it in a circular pattern in reference to her crotch area, “lady parts.” 

“Yes, we have vaginas, Dean. What did you think was down there?” Y/n’s question was incredulous.

“I-I don’t know,” he was thoroughly embarrassed now, but y/n was not going to let him out of this one. She stared at him with a mirror of his own expression from when he waited for her to admit why she wanted the boys to leave. After a moment it broke him. “Both, okay?! I thought female Alphas had both. You happy?” If he was blushing earlier, now he was on fire with his embarrassment. His ears, cheeks, and neck all the same color of lobster red as she absentmindedly wondered if his chest was blushing too.

Y/n tried to suppress her giggles at the Neanderthal in front of her. She was embarrassed for the poor dude, but she was still going to tease him. Grabbing the pillow from behind her she whipped it at his head. “Oh my God, did they not teach you anything in biology?” She was laughing now, full-on belly laughs that shook her body and made her ribs ache. 

He threw his hands up to defend himself against the fluffy projectile. “To be honest, I was never into book learning,” he admitted with a chuckle and a smirk. “I preferred a little hands on action...y’know, under the bleachers during class.” The smirk breaking into a wide half-smile, eyes crinkling with mirth and that damned eyebrow raising to his hairline again.

“That doesn’t surprise me one bit,” she snorted as she grabbed at her ribs, aching and sore from the exertion of laughing.

The moment settled as y/n was wracked with another round of cramps, her body urging her toward the Alpha in the room knowing he could take care of her needs. Dean saw the uncomfortable look on her face as he broke the silent tension in the room. “You know, I could help if you wanted me to.” He cast his eyes down to the rough blanket atop her bed, taking in the frays and matted fiber pills dotting the landscape.

“I know you would, and I appreciate that,” she began as Dean raised his gaze to look at her. His eyebrows raised in tandem wrinkling his forehead as he rested his elbows on his knees and rubbed his hands together in a contemplative manner. “But I can take care of myself. I’ve done it all my life.” She offered him a soft smile. “You and Sam go find a case and get gone for a bit. I’ll call if anything comes up.”

“You sure? ‘Cause y/n I—.” 

“I’ll be fine Dean. I promise.”

Several tense seconds went by as Dean stared her down, weighing her last few statements. He was trying to overcome his intense need to stick by her side and watch over her, to keep her safe. Glancing at her he noticed she looked a little hopeful at the thought of him and Sam gone for a bit which really was a blow to his pride. Why should he leave her here to take care of herself when he could do a much better job? Because she doesn’t want you, asshole. It’s not about what you want, it’s about what she wants. Heaving a sigh he looked at her through his forest of eyelashes, “Alright, fine. I’ll see what we can come up with and we’ll be gone within the hour.”

She scrambled halfway out of bed at his answer, throwing her arms around his neck and planting a giant sloppy kiss to his cheek as she pulled him into a hug. “Oh, thank you, Dean.”

He wrapped his arms around her back, careful not to aggravate her ribs. Burying his nose at the scent gland behind her ear he pulled in a lungful, her scent of citrus and jasmine overwhelming, the musk from her heat already becoming heady enough to excite his cock. Softly he pushed her back and broke the embrace, careful to not get drunk on her scent, that would make leaving her alone that much harder. 

“You’re welcome,” he grinned as he took in her excited features. He stood and walked toward the door, presumably to go inform Sam of the impromptu hunt they needed to find. “But I’m going to leave some ground rules.” He turned to look at her sitting cross legged on the bed, her overly large t-shirt just barely reaching midway down her thigh.

“Of course.” She agreed.

“First of all, take it easy, don’t strain yourself. No exercise, no playing with the equipment, no lifting heavy objects. Second, don’t leave hair in the shower drain. That’s gross. Third, don’t eat my pie. Other than that you have free rein of the place. Cool?”

“Cool,” she beamed. Thank Chuck! Some alone time at last, she thought.

Stopping in the doorway, Dean rested his hand on the frame smoothing his calloused palm over the smooth wood as he inspected the grain. “Listen, if you, uh, need anything, don’t hesitate to call. Y’know, while we’re gone.” He glanced back to her form.

“I won’t.” She chuckled.

“I mean anything y/n. Anything at all.” A hopeful grin spread across his features.

“I know, Dean.” She rolled her eyes, “Would you just get going already?”

“Yeah, yep. Sure thing.” He smacked his palm on the door jam a couple times for emphasis. “See ya when we get back.” 

His statement came out more like an unasked question, so y/n looked him in the eyes and answered truthfully. “Yeah, you will.”

With that he nodded and made his way to find his brother as Dean called Sam’s name down the hallway. Y/n flopped back on the bed with a groan, unsure if it was elicited by her wounds, the heat wracking her body, Dean’s soft words and offers of help, or a combination of the three.

She lay there for several long moments, unsure of how much time had passed as she thought about Dean fucking Winchester. Since the moment she met him she had done everything in her power to maintain some distance from the attractive hunter, but as the days wore on she found the distance was becoming smaller and smaller. Y/n was in over her head, and, Chuck help her, she craved the sensation of drowning.


	7. Dominating Dean Winchester

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Y/n’s still recovering and her heat has set in. In order to deal with it in peace she sends the boys on a simple salt and burn. When Dean checks in with her before they leave will things go ‘sideways’?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The smut is finally here! Also I’m so sorry it took so long! I realized this morning I had uploaded it to Tumblr a few weeks ago but completely forgot to upload it here. 
> 
> It’s here now, and I hope you all enjoy!

As the boys readied for their impromptu hunt, Sam typing furiously in the throes of research and Dean gathering supplies, y/n was left to her own devices. Being relegated to bed rest for the majority of her stay at the bunker had left her feeling grossly inhuman, the sweaty reactive symptoms of her heat not helping anything. Gingerly, she swung her legs over the side of the bed, her bare feet coming into contact with the chilled floor which helped to combat her rising temperature. Slowly she stood, throwing her hands over her head and stretching as much as her still healing ribs would allow. 

Crossing the room she took in the state of her duffle and the contents it held; the clothes she wore the night Kai attacked her and the boys were nowhere to be found, surmising they had been ruined in the encounter. The remainder of her belongings didn’t suit her needs at the moment. The jeans being too cumbersome and hot, the T-shirt’s and other tops seeming just as unappealing. She picked up a pair of her lace underwear, rubbing the delicate fabric between her thumb and forefinger. Feeling the slick already beginning to coat the inside of her thighs, she placed them back into the bag, opting to not ruin any more clothes. What she would give for a light tank-top and a pair of cotton sleep shorts.

Instead, y/n grabbed her meager set of toiletries, shampoo, conditioner, and her favorite body wash, and tenderly moved toward the hallway. Stepping out of the doorway, she looked toward each end of the corridor, attempting to decide which way to go to begin her search for the bathroom. Just as she was about to turn left, Sam came around the corner, his chestnut hair blowing in the self-generated breeze of his quickened stride. 

Looking up from his phone, no doubt trying to get ahold of Dean in this labyrinth of a place, his hazel eyes lit up when he saw y/n standing there. “Hey, how ya feeling?”

“Better. I’m still sore but I think I’ll be okay.” She noticed the slight wrinkle to Sam’s features, his polite way of showing he could smell her heat coming on but he wasn’t going to mention it. She lowered her eyes to the ground as her cheeks heated.

“Good! Glad to hear it.” He said with a sideways grin and a slight chuckle. “Well, hey, Dean and I are going to head out for a few days, we caught a case a few hours up the road. You going to be okay?”

“Yeah, I heard about the case,” she lied. It was enough that he knew she was going into heat, it was completely another thing for him to know it was her idea they leave. She genuinely enjoyed Sam and his company, they had become fast friends during her recovery period, and she didn’t want to lose that. After being on the run from her family for months on end, it was nice to connect with people again, she had grown closer to these two hunters than she ever thought would be possible. She couldn’t lose them now. “I’ll be okay, Sam. Thanks.” She raised her gaze to meet his.

“Y/n if you need anything, don’t hesitate to call us. It’s a simple salt and burn, so we shouldn’t be gone more than three days or so.” He was fiddling with the phone he held in his long fingers, apparently nervous.

“I will, don’t worry. Keep Dean in line, yeah? Make sure he doesn’t do anything too drastic.” Her nonchalant attitude regarding the elder brother was quickly turning into one of concern and worry. 

“Yeah, I will.” He chuckled. “We uh, still have a few things to get ready,” he motioned toward the other end of the hall with a nod of his head. “We’ll check in with you before we head out, okay?” 

“Sounds good.”

“Alright, great.” He moved past y/n and toward the opposite end of the corridor.

“Oh hey, Sam!” She called out behind him.

“Yeah?” He turned to face her as he backpedaled down the hallway.

“Bathroom?”

“Oh! It’s this way,” he threw his head in a backward gesture while jamming his thumb over his right shoulder. Quickly, she shuffled after him, trying to make up the empty ground his long stride had covered.

They walked down the hall side by side for a few moments before he stopped at a T-shaped cross section. “Bathroom is the second door on the left in this hallway, Laundry is across the hall from it.”

“Thanks, again, Sam.”

Smiling he nodded his head as he trotted on to find his brother. 

Y/n pushed her way through the heavy door, a large clean but dated bathroom stared back at her. Locking the leaden monstrosity, she made her way to the shower area, a large open style shower similar to a locker room. A shelf against the wall held a few stacks of fluffy black towels and washcloths. Grabbing one of each she hung them on the hooks nearby and turned the tap on. Immediately hot water began pouring form the shower head, the pressure pleasantly firm as steam began to fill the room.

Y/n let the water pour over her aching body. The combination of the pressure and hot water soothing away the knots and kinks she had developed over the last few days of bed rest. It was crazy how the angel had healed all her external wounds, making it almost seem like the night with her brother didn’t happen. However, the constant screaming of her un-healed ribs and slight fracture of her arm were daily reminders that he had, in fact, beat her within an inch of her life. With that realization, the tears began to flow. Her sobs were muffled in the flesh of her palms as the salty droplets ran from her eyes to mix on her cheeks with the water, her tears becoming indistinguishable from the mist of the shower. 

After what felt like hours but was probably no more than a few moments, she caught her breath and returned to her task at hand, small sniffles punctuating the space around her. Quickly she washed her hair and body, scrubbing the remains of her dried blood away. Once her skin was pink and nearly raw from her scrubbing, she shut the water off and wrapped herself in the soft towel. The clothes she’d been wearing the last few days were stale with the scent of her body odor and remnants of the light sheen of sweat from this morning. Her nose wrinkled in distaste as she gathered the garments and slipped out the bathroom door. 

Spying the laundry Sam had mentioned across the way, she entered the small room containing a washing machine and dryer, the soft scent of detergent and fabric softener permeating the air. Dropping the offending clothing in the washer and adding the soap to the mix, she slammed the lid and started the wash cycle. On the floor by the dryer sat a basket of clean clothes. Seeing a lightweight, green checked, cotton, button down that piqued her interest, y/n snatched it from the pile, immediately bringing it to her nose to inhale the scent. It was Dean’s. 

Embedded in the fibers was the smell that was so uniquely him and belonged to no one else, a strange mixture of whiskey and storm clouds mingling with the fresh scent of the laundry detergent. It was intoxicating, her senses and body reacting to it immediately as more slick began to pool between her legs. Dropping the towel, she slipped into the well worn shirt and fastened the buttons, leaving the top two undone. The hem of the oversized garment hit her mid thigh and the sleeves nearly covered the ends of her fingertips, making her feel cozy with Dean’s scent taking the edge off the side effects of her heat. Wrapping her arms around her torso, she slowly padded back toward the room the boys had deemed as hers.

“Sam? Dean?” She called, hoping to elicit a response. Sam said they’d check in before they left. They must have been in a hurry because everywhere she looked as she explored the bunker was devoid of the two hunters. 

Another, more nerve wracking cramp shook her body, her scent becoming more obvious to her own acclimated senses. Once the pain subsided she walked back toward her room and began rummaging through her army duffel. There at the bottom of the bag, packed next to her weapons, dead man’s blood, and meager belongings, was a long mahogany box. Desperately she grabbed ahold of it, pulling it from the dark recesses of the canvas bag to set it on the desk.

Quickly she popped the lid. Inside, nestled in the cobalt blue satin was her special knotting toy she fondly referred to as Brutus. It was a rather large and veiny phallus with a special knotting mechanism to help her through these awful times of the month. She delicately traced the large veins as her fingers wrapped around the oversized artificial member, a low needy whimper tearing from her throat as its weight settled in her palm.

Desperate for a release of some kind she settled on the bed, her core clenching at the thought of the thick cock buried deep inside her. Laying down, she deposited the toy next to her side and slowly unbuttoned the shirt, turning her head to bury her nose in the collar as she went. When the last button fell open, she trailed her digits softly up the smooth flesh of her torso until they alighted on her breasts, her palm gently massaging the tissue as she plucked delicately at her already hardened nipples. A soft moan slipped past her lips as she imagined larger, rougher hands carefully working her flesh. The stimulation of her nipples was divine but made her wanton folds quiver from the lack of satisfaction.

Flattening the palm of her other hand, she smoothed the soft skin over her lower belly and the curly thatch of hair covering her mound, a finger lightly dipping in between the folds of skin. Her lips were wet with her juices, completely readying her for the thick toy waiting diligently at her side to please her...well as much as a fake cock can. 

A growl ripped through her throat as she was overcome with a desperation so animalistic in nature she snatched up the dildo and jammed it inside her, not allowing her body time to adjust to the foreign length. The sense of being full was heavenly and a moan loud enough to wake the dead worked its way past her lips to fill the barren room. Working the cock in and out of her tight hole with one hand and tweaking and pinching her nipples with the other, she began to work herself toward a sense of fulfillment. The sensations working together to send wave after wave of pleasure coursing through her body. Soon her legs were rubbing together as she ground down on the toy, inching closer and closer to the edge. She inhaled deeply as she threw her head to the side to once again bury her nose in the collar of the stolen shirt, Dean’s scent taking over and fogging her mind. The bubbling sensations combined with the Alpha’s smell sent her over the edge quickly, lightning coursing through her veins as his name was torn from her throat to echo in the silent room.   
Sated momentarily she laid there panting, the toy still nestled to the hilt as she circled her hips, slowly coming down from the high of her orgasm. Opening her eyes she saw a figure standing in the doorway, the darkened green gaze taking in her strung out form. Her abused pussy re-awakening with the thought of him between her legs.

In the back of her mind, Y/n’s logical side was trying to overpower her animalistic instincts as some sane part of her brain began to niggle at the thought that she should cover up or be embarrassed. However, the predator coming awake to break the surface found pleasure in Dean’s expression, reveling in the way his eyes darkened and his body reacted to hers. In a matter of seconds y/n’s base instincts won out as a sinfully predatory grin split her face and her eyes narrowed as they honed in on their target.

Dean had made his way back down the hall and toward y/n’s room to let her know they were leaving. Much to his chagrin. He hadn’t been able to stomach the thought of leaving her alone to ride out her heat, but he was determined to respect her wishes. As he had approached the closed wooden door, a muffled moan sounded through the slab of wood. Worry wrenched at his heart when he had thrown the door open fully expecting to see y/n curled up on her side, a sickly feverish mess.

Instead, he saw her laid out on the bed, one of his cotton button downs open and pooled at her sides as she thrust a large toy in and out of her dripping cunt. From his vantage point he could see the way her lips spread around the large veiny shaft, her erect nipples bouncing with the force of her actions. Her knees were bent for extra leverage and her head was thrown to the side, nose buried in the tartan fabric. Her scent permeating the room and clouding his mind. He could feel himself growing in his jeans, the zipper biting into his swelling cock. When his name was wrenched from her chest with the force of her orgasm, his hand flew to his crotch, absentmindedly palming himself in an effort to relieve some of the pressure.

Leave, his brain shouted at him, but the sight of her spent form kept him rooted to the spot. When she opened her eyes from her blissful ministrations, they immediately locked with his, lust filled y/ec meeting the deep emerald green of his own. He stiffened, fully expecting y/n to shout and fuss at the breach of privacy, but the slow smile that crept across her face caught him off guard. 

“Did you enjoy the show?” She purred, as she slipped the toy from her soaked lips, her other hand still massaging the sensitive skin of her breasts. 

A sly smile broke across her face as she brought the slick coated member to her lips, her gaze never wavering as her tongue darted out to taste herself on the smooth silicone. She swirled her tongue around the head before stretching her mouth around it, sinking what she could of the shaft down her throat as she bobbed a few times.

Dean’s breathing hitched in his throat at the erotic action, his own tongue darting out to lick his lower lip into his mouth where it was caught by his perfect white teeth. His mind suddenly bringing erotic stills of her laid out beneath him to the forefront of his thoughts. An obscene pop sounded through the room as she pulled the overly large and veined toy from her lips.

“Deeaan,” she singsonged, grabbing his attention. “I asked you a question.” Her eyebrow arched as she waited for a reply, the base instincts of her Alpha side overshadowing the self-deprecating and bewildered thoughts that would normally be flooding her mind as a confidence she had never before owned took over her.

Y/n tossed the toy aside as she raised up on her knees, the open shirt hanging from her shoulders as she looked at him. Her hands drifted down her body until her fingers reached her mound. There they dipped between the folds to tease at her clit, effectively putting on a show for the stunned hunter. “Did. You. Enjoy. The show.” She asked again in stuttered breaths as she wound herself up again.

With that Dean pounced, kicking the door shut in the process. His hands coming up to cup her cheeks as his lips met hers in a ferocious kiss, teeth gnashing and tongues swirling as they fought for dominance. Y/n was the first to break the kiss, trailing her lips down the side of Dean’s jaw to the delicate skin behind his ear as she clamped down on it, sucking the blood to the surface of his skin. The action elicited a sharp gasp from him. Taking that as a sign to move forward, y/n drop down a few inches to the spot where Dean’s shoulder met the base of his neck, pulled the collars of his shirts aside, and repeated the action.

Her hands found the buttons on his top layer as he wrapped his strong arms around her back and shifted them, leaving him sitting on the bed with her straddling his lap. Once she finished with the buttons, y/n desperately pushed the fabric off his shoulders, eager to minimize the number of layers between his own skin and her heated flesh, her lips finding his once more. 

While Dean was busy exploring the recesses of her mouth with his own, her fingers met the bare skin at the hem of his shirt, tracing tiny, swirling patterns as her hands dipped beneath the fabric to explore the unknown territory. The gentle movements sent shivers down his spine as he worked to remove the Henley and undershirt as quick as possible. 

Once his torso was bare, y/n’s palms began their new exploration, her lips leaving his so she could look at the never before seen expanse of skin and muscle. Dean wasn’t fat but he wasn’t cut and well-defined either. Instead, his body was hardened from the years of physical labor that came with the hunting life. Her fingertips traced the lines and valleys of his chest and torso as they ghosted over his pecs and slightly visible abdominal muscles before they curled into the top of his jeans.

Nudging her chin back up, Dean’s mouth reclaimed hers in a searing kiss as his palms slid up her sides to cover her full breasts. Gently he squeezed, rolling the tissue beneath his hands as his fingers attached themselves to her nipples, rolling and pinching them between his thumb and forefinger as he pulled slightly. A gasp left her as her hips began to grind against the fly of his jeans, the friction tantalizingly pleasurable as it worked across her heated folds. Her eyes fluttered shut as she broke the kiss and dropped her forehead to his shoulder, her hips still undulating against his as she wrapped her arms around his neck, gripping on desperately for dear life. Y/n’s panting breaths warmed his skin with each gasp and moan that fell from her lips as she used him to alleviate the lustful desire within. 

Dean let his hands fall from her chest to her hips, digging the blunt ends of his fingers into the soft flesh. His breaths became deep as he inhaled her scent, nuzzling into the spot below her ear. “Sweetheart,” he murmured against her skin causing goosebumps to leave a trail across her shoulder. “Let me help you.” His hips ground up into her as his strong hands helped her pelvis rock over him. Dean grazed the edges of his teeth over the bolt of her jaw before licking the lobe of her ear between them and giving it a tug. “You need an Alpha knot, I can help you feel better.” 

His words simultaneously made her body crave more of him and her mind reel at the tone of his words, causing her Alpha to bristle. Her back stiffened as she lifted her head from his shoulder, her eyes meeting his as her hips kept up their unrelenting pace. How dare this Alpha assume I need him like some heat crazed, mindless Omega, she thought. 

Y/n narrowed her eyes as her hips ground down into him. “I don’t need you,” she spat with a snarl. “I want you. There is a difference, Alpha,” she finished as her tone turned mocking. 

“Calm down, y/n.” Dean panted breathlessly as he tried to recapture her lips in a kiss. 

Roughly Y/n slapped her palms against Dean’s shoulders, holding him at arm’s length while simultaneously denying his kiss as she stilled her hips. Her eyebrows arched as she parroted his last sentence. “‘Calm down’?” Her tone was incredulous. Forcefully she pushed, causing Dean to flop wide-eyed against the bed as she planted a hand in the middle of his chest to pin him in place.

“Listen here, Winchester, and listen closely. You may think you are God’s gift to women,” Y/n snarled in a growled, purr. “But, face it, handsome.” A short pause as she emphasized her point by grinding down on his engorged shaft. “This body was meant to be used.” A devious smile cracked her features then as she bent over Dean’s torso, her breasts rubbing seductively against his bare chest. As she neared his ear, Y/n’s voice came out on a lust filled whisper causing Dean’s body to become blanketed in goosebumps as his breath hitched. “And honey, I plan to use it.”

As Dean’s mind raced from y/n’s words, she slid down his body to begin fumbling with his belt. The aggressiveness Y/n was displaying was hot, like hot-hot. Never in his entire life had Dean Winchester been this attracted to a snarky, know-it-all, Badass Barbie on a classic motorcycle. She was tough, fierce, and had no problem taking what she wanted, a fact he would remember to keep straight lest he incur her unbridled wrath again.

Dean’s thoughts rabbit-holed from one idea to the next until his train of thought was derailed by a new sensation. Y/n had managed to free his hardened member from the confines of the denim jeans he wore. His boots were still on, his jeans and boxers pooled around his knees.

Y/n was greedily taking in as much of his thickened shaft as possible. Every time the head of his cock slipped down the back of her throat, Dean saw stars. The moist heat of her soft mouth was tantalizing, and he couldn’t help but think what her pussy would feel like once he was buried inside her. Lost in the blissful ecstasy of being intimate, neither of them heard Sam until it was too late. 

“Dean? Y/n?” His voice echoed down the hallway. After a few more steps sounded through the door, the giant stopped outside Y/n’s room. 

Dean’s mind was reeling, attempting to form a coherent thought as he heard two short knocks thump against the heavy wooden door from the hallway. Unable to call out a warning as the last line of defense swung open, Dean locked eyes with y/n’s determined gaze. She never let up or faltered in her ministrations as a smug smile crinkled the corners of her eyes, a sure sign her animal side had taken over completely.

Dean’s emerald orbs were the size of saucers. Over her shoulder he watched as Sam rounded the edge of the door, his worried gaze drifting up from his cell phone as his sentence trailed off. “Hey y/n, have you seen…” Sheer horror overtook his features as he took in the sight in front of him. Dean was nearly naked, half-lying, half-sitting on the bed with his pants around his knees and y/n between them working him over. Luckily, all Sam saw of y/n were her bare feet and calves and her shoulders where Dean’s shirt had ridden down her torso. Embarrassment lit both his and Dean’s faces the deepest shade of red possible.

“OH SHIT!” Sam cried as he reversed his course and slammed the door behind him. “S-s-sorry.” He called. “I-I’m just gonna c-call Garth.” Sammy was stuttering and clearing his throat in an attempt to forget what he’d just walked in on. “Be back in a couple of days.” With that, Sam booked it out of the bunker.

An obscenely loud pop sounded as y/n slid her mouth off of Dean’s prick while a fit of giggles overtook her. “Well, that was fun.” 

Dean was breathless as well as speechless as he lay there. Y/n’s hand was gently running along the shaft of his member as he tried to form a cognizant thought—one that would describe how angry, upset, and embarrassed he was—but he could not, for the life of him, think with the right head at the moment. 

Instead he managed to kick off his boots and long forgotten jeans as y/n slowly crawled back up his body. Her lips met his as she swung a leg over his waist and impaled herself on his well-endowed, hardened cock. A breathy moan escaped the two of them at the moment of impact. Y/n remained there for a moment, sharing breaths with Dean as she reveled in the glorious feeling of being full to the brim.

The walls of her pussy clenched down on Dean’s member as the fleeting thought of how right it felt raced through his mind. “Y/n…” he growled.

“Hmmm?” Y/n’s eyes had fluttered shut in order to soak up the mingling sensations.

“Move, Sweetheart.” Dean commanded, his hands coming up to grip at her hips, ass, and thighs.

“Mmm, right.” With the command, y/n sat up and began moving her hips in a slow circular rhythm.

Dean’s eyes were hooded and darkened with wanton lust as he looked up at her. Y/n’s breasts were swaying with the smooth undulating motion of her hips, his green button-down hanging from her elbows now. Her hands were braced on his abdomen as she began to slowly bounce up and down. Bringing herself far enough up so only his head remained inside her, then crashing back down until her pelvis met his with a swirl of her hips.

The slow pace became too teasing as y/n picked up her speed. Dean impaled her to the root over and over and over again, the tip ramming against her cervix and the shaft rubbing against that sensitive spot just inside her cunt. 

As she moved faster and faster, Dean watched as his cock disappeared, her pussy taking him in for all he was worth. Y/n’s legs gave out as she collapsed onto Dean’s chest, not far from her release. Taking charge, he wrapped his arms around her back as he bent his knees and planted his feet on the bed.

The new angle allowed him to hold her as he pistoned up into her, her hips meeting his with every thrust as his knot began to grow. The liquid warmth pooling in y/n’s core was near overflowing when she buried her face in Dean’s neck, pulling in his scent with each labored breath. “Almost there, Dean,” she panted.

“I’m right behind you, Darlin’.” He grunted.

Dean picked up the pace, his knot ramming into her entrance as he drove her closer and closer to the edge until she was catapulted over. The crashing high overtook her thoughts as she bit down on the soft skin below his ear. Her teeth sinking into the pink flesh of the column of his throat, leaving a mark which would begin to scar by morning. The sensation of being claimed mixed with his own release as the thick ring of muscle popped inside y/n.

Delicately y/n mouthed at the wound she had caused, licking over the mark to help staunch the bleeding. When the blood flow had eased, she looked up at Dean with trepidation in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Dean.” Her y/ec eyes misted over with tears. “I-I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have claimed you.” Wet tears hit his bare torso as she buried her face in his chest.

Silently, Dean wrapped his arms tighter around her back as he carefully scooted up the bed, arranging y/n and himself so they were more comfortable. “Shhhh, Sweetheart, it’s okay. We’ll figure this out tomorrow,” he cooed soothingly as he smoothed her hair and rubbed small circles into her back.

“It not okay, Dean.” She looked into his eyes then. He could see so many hidden secrets swirling in her worried gaze, but didn’t have the heart to ask her about them. At least, not at the moment. “I claimed you. I pulled you into my shit story, and only put your life in more danger. We’ll have to break the bond.” She was sobbing now, as she laid there connected to Dean in more ways than one.

He grabbed her face, thumbs brushing over her cheekbones in a soothing rhythm. “Look at me, y/n.” His green eyes bore into her own frightful gaze. “Everything will be okay. We’ll figure out a way to break the bond if that’s what you want,” he assured her. “And whatever is going on, I’m here. The good, the bad, the ugly, I’m here for you in whatever capacity you’ll allow me.”

“Alright,” she whispered, dumbfounded at his sincerity.

“Now, we can’t do much of anything at the moment,” he said as he gestured toward the fact they were joined until the swelling of his knot subsided. “So we are going to lie down for a little while and take a nap, okay? Things won’t look so bad once you’ve had some sleep.”

Y/n stared at him a moment, tear swollen eyes searching his face for any indication he was lying. “Okay,” came her weak reply.

Carefully, Dean arranged themselves in a somewhat comfortable position. Y/n was snuggled into his chest as he held her to him, their legs intertwined and tangled together. Tenderly he played with her hair, running his fingers through the tresses as y/n drifted off to sleep. Once the soft snores began to fill the room, Dean looked down at the sweetly badass Alpha he held. No less than a few minutes after she claimed him, she wanted to break the bond. Had someone told him a few days ago a female Alpha would claim him, he’d have called them a liar. Had that same someone told him he would like it and wouldn’t want to break the bond, he’d have laughed in their face. Damn, life was funny like that. 

As Dean stared at the wall past his newfound mate, he couldn’t but help to think of all the reasons they shouldn’t break the bond. Every reason looped back to the same old nagging feeling deep in his chest. He was pretty sure he was in love with her. This sassy, pig-headed, badass, whiskey-drinking, assertive woman had inserted herself into his life and stolen a piece of his heart without him knowing it. Funny, he was damn sure proud to call her Alpha.


	8. Turnabout is Fair Play

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A romp in the kitchen leads to something inexplicaable...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is relatively short, and has nooo plot. It is pure smut and I’m not even sorry. Not one bit!

Chapter 8: Turnabout is Fair Play

Sometime in the night, y/n woke, her bladder screaming. Dean’s knot had subsided and slipped from her entrance some time past, and his chest was now pressed against her back, his arms caging her from behind, their legs tangled and intertwined. Silently, and as stealthily as possible, y/n gingerly picked up the beefy arm draped over her side and rolled out of the bed, being careful to place it in the empty space beside him. Surveying the room, she found the flannel she had commandeered earlier in the day and slipped it over her shoulders, fastening a few of the middle buttons to combat the chill of the bunker. 

She was headed back up the hall from the restroom, having taken care of her business, when her stomach cramped and let out a loud rumble akin to a keening whale. “Damn, alright Tiger, let's go find some food,” she mumbled to herself. 

In the kitchen y/n yanked open the door of the industrial refrigerator, and began perusing the contents inside. Chinese food with fur, stale pizza with crust as hard as a rock, milk that was more solid than liquid, and ingredients for various breakfast items all stared back at her. It looked like the boys had been surviving off take-out and leftovers while she was laid up, grocery shopping falling by the wayside. As she moved to shut the door something caught her eye. On the top shelf sat a lone slice of cherry pie. Pulling it from its resting place, y/n inspected it for any signs of decomposition. Finding no mold or bugs, she deemed it acceptable grabbed a fork and hopped up on the counter top. 

As Y/n perched on the counter, the metal and tile cool against her bare legs, she slowly ate the pie in silence, contemplating all that had happened in the last few days. She’d taken out a nest of vampires, virtually on her own, met two hunters, was nearly beat to death by her brother, and worst of all, went into heat and claimed an Alpha. All in all, it had been crazy, but the thing weighing heaviest on her mind was Dean.

The questions were on a never ending loop in her mind. Why Dean? Why did she give in to him? She’s normally so good at being guarded and alone. Why, of all the hunters in the world, did she have to claim him? He didn’t deserve a life of running from her brother. He didn’t deserve to get involved with her and subsequently have to deal with all her baggage. She had to find a way to break the bond, if not for her own sake, then for Dean’s. 

Dejected and upset she threw the fork and plate into the sink, returning to the fridge to retrieve a bottle of water from the crisper. Bending over, the flannel rode up her body, the hem only barely covering her ass. Her wet folds on display for anyone to see. And that is precisely how Dean found her. Bent over, cunt shining and slick with her juices. Unable to control himself, Dean reached out, running two fingers up her swollen lips, his thumb finding her clit instantaneously.

Y/n braced herself on a refrigerator shelf in an attempt to not wind up on her head. A wanton moan escaped her as she stood up, grinding down on Dean’s hand.

“What have you been doing Alpha?” Dean whispered gruffly in her ear, his hand never stilling. “I woke up and you were gone.” The words were followed by a soft snarl communicating his unhappiness.

“Mmm… I-I needed to pee,” she replied breathlessly as he nipped at her shoulder, her hands coming up to wind in his hair.

“Well this certainly doesn’t look like the bathroom,” he growled, his other hand tracing circles on her left hip. Y/n carded her fingers through Dean’s hair, grabbing ahold of the longer tresses on top and pulling in response to the movement of his large paw.

Y/n mewled softly, her answer coming out on a moan. “I got hungry…” She thrashed her head back into Dean’s chest, resting it there as his hand worked her over the edge. He spun her, crashing his lips into hers as he supported her weight, the orgasm leaving her legs wobbly and unsteady. Several minutes passed as they slowly explored each other’s mouths while y/n regained strength in her lower extremities. 

“Sweetheart,” Dean mumbled against her mouth.

“Yeah?”

“Did you eat my pie?” He pulled back just far enough to look her in the face. 

“P-pie? What pie?” Y/n asked nonchalantly. “I didn’t eat any of your pie. It’s a ground rule, remember?” She batted her eyes at Dean, hoping the innocent act would throw him off.

Dean cocked a disbelieving eyebrow, a smirk gracing his full lips. “Then why do you taste like cherries?”

“I-I… I, umm,” y/n stammered, “bought new lip gloss?” 

Dean quirked his left eyebrow in a look of disbelief. “Wanna try that again, Darlin’?”

“Fine, I ate your damn pie,” Y/n pulled back, slamming her hands on her hips, “but in my defense, nothing else in the fridge was edible. It’s either growing legs or fur, and I didn’t feel like getting food poisoning.”

“That’s what I thought,” he grinned as he pulled her closer to him, grinding his erection into her abdomen. “Do I need to punish you for eating the last slice of pie?”

The heat rolling off his body and the light sheen of sweat coating his bare chest caused concern to blossom across her face. She peered into his bottomless green eyes, and noticed the haze of lust dulling the vibrant color. “Dean…” she trailed off as she laid the back of her hand to various places on his body—his forehead, his cheek, between his pectorals—gauging the heat radiating from him, “you’re really hot.”

“I knew you liked me,” he winked, as he ran his hands up and down her arms, her back, anywhere he could reach, as he continued to grind into her.

Y/n rolled her eyes in exasperation. “I was talking about your temperature, dumbass.”

“Oh, right.” 

“Dean, I-I think you’re in rut.” The situation became more apparent as Dean kept grinding his hard-on into her, pawing at the flannel and any skin he came into contact with. Desperation edging his actions as the seconds ticked by. Y/n’s body responded to his, her slick coating her thighs again preparing for Dean to take her. 

He growled, low and long in the back of his throat, the sound rumbling through y/n’s bones. “Looks like I may be,” he agreed. “Y/n, if you don’t want this, I need you to tell me.” Dean choked out. “I’ll leave. I’ll go into town and leave you be while I ride out my rut.”

The mere thought drove y/n insane. Having Dean bed some other woman, an Omega, no doubt, caused her inner Alpha to rear its head. She marked Dean, he was hers, and only she would help him through this, just like he had been doing for her. Her mind made up, three little words slipped from her lust fogged brain and tumbled out her mouth in a whisper. “Fuck me, Alpha.”

In a lightning quick movement, Dean gripped each side of the flannel and ripped, buttons flying everywhere as he spun her around. Aggressively, he tore the shirt from y/n’s body by the collar, and bent her over the corner of kitchen table. Harsh open mouthed kisses were placed along the curve of her spine from the base all the way to the nape of her neck as he drug the head of his dick through her soaking folds preparing himself. Dean grazed his teeth over the curve of y/n’s shoulder as he slammed home, the motion causing the blunt corner of the table to rub against her sensitive clit.

Y/n keened, the sound piquing Dean’s interest as he began to set the pace. “Do you like that sweetheart? Hmm?” 

“Y-yes, Dean,” she panted. The obscene slap of his hips against her ass rang through the empty bunker, the force shoving her forward on the table with each thrust. Dean’s hardened length was pounding against her cervix, brushing her sweet spot with every forward thrust, her swollen bud rubbing against the table, the sensations building quickly. “Faster, Dean,” y/n moaned.

“Yes, Alpha,” Dean grunted. He gripped her arms, folding them behind her back and pinning her wrists with one large hand as he gripped her hip with the other, using both points of contact for leverage. Roughly he pulled her back onto his cock as he rammed forward fervently. The sweat slicked skin of his abdomen slid smoothly against her back as he bent over her. His rough pace began to falter as the knot at the base of his member began to swell and pull at y/n’s hungry, swollen lips.

“I’m going to knot you, Alpha,” Dean growled in y/n’s ear, the tone causing goosebumps to break out over her flushed skin. 

“Mmm...yes, knot me Alpha.” Her words coming out on a breathy moan.

Dean let go of y/n’s wrists, both hands now firmly on the round of her hips. The long erratic thrusts turning into shorter, quicker jabs as his knot caught inside her. He was mouthing at the curve of her shoulder when the tightening coil inside y/n finally broke for the second time. The pressure of her walls gripping his length and her juices spilling around him as he pushed her over the edge sent him into his own spiral of ecstasy. The blissful feeling of being sated, even if just for the moment was so powerful, his jaw clenched. 

Teeth broke skin, blood rushing into his mouth. His tongue laved at the open wound as the pain of the bite both hurt like a motherfucker and caused y/n’s senses to become heightened, the aftershocks of her orgasm being drawn out further. The thick ropes of come settled low and warm inside her, making her feel full and satisfied.

Y/n laid across the table like a rag doll, too worn out and legs too much like jelly to support herself fully. The only thing keeping her from slumping to the floor was Dean pinning her to the table with his broad chest. Her ears were ringing and her mind was abnormally still in the afterglow of being used by “Dean the Alpha”. 

Dean broke away from where he was still lapping at the soft spot on y/n’s neck, and pulled out the kitchen chair next to them. Carefully he sat down with y/n on his lap, still connected where the thick ring of muscle was lodged inside her, his chest pressed to her back. Tenderly he began to massage small circles on y/n’s sides and lower back, easing the tension while both of their Alphas were internally basking in satisfaction.

“You doing okay, Sweetheart?” Dean murmured against the flesh of her shoulder blade.

Lazily her head lolled to the side so she could look at him. “Mmm, yeah. ‘M okay…” she mumbled, nuzzling her face into his neck. “I just wanna sleep for a bit.”

“Alright, y/n, just close your eyes. I’ll take care of you.” Dean whispered into her hair before placing a soft kiss there.

When his dick finally softened enough to pull free, Dean lifted y/n, bridal style, and wandered silently through the bunker to his room. He gripped the top of the bedspread, pulling it and the sheet back far enough to deposit her on the bed. Crawling in beside her, he flipped the covers back over the two of them. Once Dean was comfortable, he wound an arm beneath y/n’s sleeping form, and pulled her closer to him so she was half-draped across his chest, her head resting on his shoulder. 

He could feel the tangle of emotions pouring off of her, even in the depths of sleep. Frustration, fear, anger, satisfaction, and the same foreign feeling he’d had since he first met her. It was strange how even asleep she still managed to feel all of those complex emotions at once. 

Damn it… 

The words drifted through his mind, quiet as a spring breeze but there all the same. They weren’t his words, at least he didn’t think they were. They didn’t seem loud enough to be his/ Instead it was like they had come through the telephone after holding it away from his ear, clear enough to be heard and understood, but muffled and quiet.

Why… bond… need to break… own good…

What did that mean? The barely there words were swirling around his brain like bees in a hive, restless and erratic. He waited for more to come, but with each passing moment his eyes grew heavier. By the time he gave himself over to the wave of sleep washing over him, three final words made their appearance. They came through softer than before, and with him on the brink of sleep, he wasn’t sure if they were really there at all.

Dean… Love… Happy…

He fell asleep with a smirk on his face, his arm tightening around the dozing Alpha beside him.


End file.
